


King and Lionheart

by haloeverlasting



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, M/M, Royalty AU, Sexual Content, and some politics I made up, feat: ziall as lesbians, this is basically two ridiculous boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6620485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloeverlasting/pseuds/haloeverlasting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Louis Tomlinson is the first out gay monarch in his small country's history. After facing a failed attack in town, he understands why. Expect the unexpected seems applicable, but nothing could have prepared him for his own mother's reaction -- a bodyguard by the name of Harry Styles.<br/>Alternatively titled: A Prince and His Bodyguard</p>
            </blockquote>





	King and Lionheart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clamat_Submissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clamat_Submissa/gifts).



> Hello! 
> 
> This fic, my pride and joy, is for Clamat_ Submissa and the prompt: 
> 
> "i’m a prince/ss and you’re my bodyguard and we’re so not supposed to bang but we kind of did anyways” au (bonus: limo sex is great sex)"  
> Louis is a prince who almost dies after a failed attack and his parents hire Harry as his bodyguard. Sex and Fluff ensues.
> 
> Thank you to my [lovely](http://fookinloosah.tumblr.com) [lovely](http://yesitstyles.tumblr.com) [betas](http://sweetlittlelwt.tumblr.com) for spending their spare minutes on this. <3 
> 
> I certainly hope this fulfills your wildest dreams!  
> (Or at least, I hope you like it.)  
> :)
> 
> UPDATE: You can read King and Lionheart in Italian [here](https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/82848986-king-and-lionheart)!

The palace is quiet. Perhaps it’s too quiet, but Prince Louis Tomlinson sleeps without concern. While the wing in which he rests remains silent, the rest of the palace is awake and moving with haste, praying to satisfy the unusually cold requests from his mother, the Queen Johannah.

Quick footsteps and murmurings join the normal clatter of pans in the kitchen, as the incident from the night before is passed from person to person in rapid whispers. It would seem that their small, hospitable country of Greydon is not without its flaws. And Prince Louis, the first openly gay monarch, has faced some disappointing backlash.

Throughout the palace, the only other noise to be heard is that of Queen Johannah’s pen sliding across a page at a dining room table. She hums softly as she finishes and offers a grateful (if pitying) smile to the young man beside her. Excusing herself, she calls for one of Louis’ handmaidens.

Across the palace, in the other wing, the first noise Louis hears is that of a knock on his chamber door.

He winces, fighting his eyes open, no matter how much he’d like to keep them shut. His duvet is wrapped all around him, which makes sitting up a chore. There’s a second knock as Louis brings his fists to his eyes, rubbing them softly. The third knock comes just as he coughs and bids them entry.

Marissa, Louis’ favorite maidservant, opens the door and smiles apologetically. “Sorry to wake you, Lou, but your mother has asked for your company in the dining hall.”

Louis smiles easily, “Not your fault, Riss. Thank you.”

She smiles back, curtsying, but Louis only rolls his eyes at her.

“We’ve been over that nonsense, love, you don’t need to curtsy every time you leave my presence.”

“Oh, just let me be with that one. You already won’t let me call you Your Highness,” she says with a shy laugh.

Louis visibly shudders at the thought, which makes her laugh again.

“Hey, Lou?”

He hums, idly scratching his own stomach.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she smiles, sheepishly.

Louis’ not sure what to say to that.  He hasn’t given himself so much as a moment to really think about what could have happened the night before. It was just one angry civilian and a few ugly comments. Louis had known, when he had decided to come out, that it couldn’t all be rainbows.

Maybe he should have waited just a week longer to explore the city on his own, after the news broke. Maybe, regardless of his realistic expectations, he’d been naïve.

He smiles back, and says, “Me too.”

She curtsies, and goes on her merry way.

Marissa hasn’t given him a time at which to join his mother for breakfast, which likely means she expects him immediately. Naturally, Louis takes his time. He’s sure she only wants to fuss over him and discuss a plan to avoid any potential, erm, _attacks_ in the future—if you can even call it that.

Honestly, Louis thinks, it all seems so much more dramatic than it actually _was_. So the guy called him a fag, and said he’d bring the country to ruin in his reign. Comments like that were to be expected. When he’d gone to punch Louis in the face, that had been much more surprising. Still, Louis rationalizes, it’s not like it was a bomb threat. There were no weapons involved. There was just one very drunk, very stupid man with a homophobic point to prove, and Louis had stupidly set himself in danger’s way. No real harm had been done. The guy had missed Louis’ nose and left his cheek feeling a little sore, but it hadn’t hurt all that bad

Louis might be privileged, but he understands the dangers some of his subjects face on the streets of their quiet country. Their crime rate is low, but of course they’re not without tragedy. Louis’ run in with harm could have been _much_ worse.

Which is exactly why Louis decides to have a shower before joining his mother at breakfast. He doesn’t do it  to be rude, he just knows he needs to be more awake for the conversation she’d like to have. He’s always better at calming his mother down after a nice sleep and a long shower.

His sleep had been fitful so without a shower to ease the tension in his bones, who knows how he’ll be able to keep the Queen calm—especially when dealing with a matter concerning her children.

When he does make it downstairs, he instantly feels guilty for taking his time. The large double doors to the dining room are open, and the first thing he sees is his mother sitting at the end of the long dark mahogany table. His mother looks stern with her eyes staring fiercely at him, lips pursed, and her hands folded neatly in her lap. He expected this. He didn’t, however, expect to see a young man sitting at the dining table beside her. Their plates are empty, and one full plate sits on Johannah’s other side, waiting for Louis.

“My apologies, Mum. I wasn’t aware we had a guest,” he says, coolly, standing before them. He surveys the guest and tries not to seem judgmental. He’s just…very young. Very young and incredibly handsome. His long dark curls rest artfully against his shoulders. Louis imagines he has a nice smile, though there’s no way you could tell by how serious he looks now.

Louis remembers himself and goes to find his seat. “I seem to have forgotten my manners. I’m so sorry. I’m—“

“Pardon me, Your Highness, it’s me who should—“

“Louis, sit down.”

His mother has no patience for manners this morning. Best not to let the twins see that.

He obliges, taking the seat beside his mother, and across from the stranger. He really is very attractive. High cheekbones and lovely lips and if he’d only stand Louis is sure the rest of him would be well suited to his tastes. Louis wipes away the rest of those thoughts  with an imaginary wave of the hand. He and his mother had discussed suitors and decided there would be none for the time being. That’s not what this is. Perhaps his mother is thinking of taking a new husband?

Ew. Ew ew ew. Louis refuses to think of the stranger in those terms. He tries not to outwardly gag when his mother coughs lowly for his attention.

“Thank you for joining me this morning, Louis. I’m sure you know why we’re here.”

Louis smiles, “Actually, I’d love for you to enlighten me, dear mother.”

He’s being a little shit. He knows he’s being a shit and he knows exactly why his mother was hoping to talk to him. But there is a stranger here and Louis does not wish to discuss his personal matters until this stranger is gone. Being incredibly attractive does not give him access to the gritty details of Louis’ life and his mother should know as much.

“Louis William, you know exactly why we are here.” says Johannah, quick to lose her patience. “You could have been killed last night.”

One would think Louis knows not to further his mother’s rage in moments like this, and still, Louis rolls his eyes, “But I _wasn’t_ mum. I’m fine. Honestly, there’s not even a scratch on me. I’ll be more careful next time, alright?”

Johannah nearly rises from her seat, “There _will be_ no next time, Louis.”

“Mum, you know you can’t do that,” Louis scoffs. Maybe he’s retaliating too much. Maybe he should be soothing his mother rather than riling her up--but if he acts like she’s overreacting, then maybe she’ll believe it. “Part of my role in this country is that I go see the people. They see me, I see them, we have a relationship. You’ve always supported this.”

“That was before… before—“

“Before they found out I was gay. I know.”

Johannah shakes her head, “I just can’t bear to see you get hurt. I love your relationship with the people.”

“So I’ll keep a low profile for a while. I won’t go out alone for another week or two, that’s really all it will take before the whole thing blows over.”

“I knew you’d react this way. I knew you’d try to brush it off like it was nothing.”

“It _was_ , nothing, Mum. It won’t happen again, I swear it.”

“Do you realize what would happen if we were ever to lose you? The loss this country would face?” Johannah says. She seems incredulous and devastated at the same time and Louis knows he shouldn’t push it, and yet.

“It would be at their own hand, wouldn’t it?”

The cold, harsh quality of his words surprises him. He knows he’s gone too far. The sad set of his mother’s shoulders, tears tracing her lower lashes tells him so.

“I’d like to discuss something else, please. We have a guest, after all.” Louis squirms a little, hoping his mother will accept his request.

Instead, Johannah becomes very still, “We will continue this discussion and it will be in his company. This matter is as much his as it is ours.”

“I find that hard to believe when you haven’t even told me his name.” Louis scoffs for good measure.

They both harrumph stubbornly, the way only a mother and son could. The stranger stands by looking less comfortable by the second.

After a moment of silence, Johannah gives in.

“Louis, this is Harry Styles. He’s to be your new bodyguard.”

Louis laughs. He honestly can’t help it, but he laughs and he laughs and just when he thinks he’s got a grip on it, he giggles again.

The other two clearly don’t think this is funny. Harry seems confused, to say the least, and his mother looks furious.

“Oh please, this has to be a joke,” Louis says, his voice high and incredulous, “Mum, this is a little dramatic, innit? I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“I don’t believe I’m being dramatic at all. I believe I am taking necessary precautions to protect my family.”

“Mum, honestly. A _bodyguard_?”

“Yes,” she nods, “A bodyguard.”

“Mum, look at him!” Louis points in Harry’s direction. “Pardon me… Harry?” Harry nods to confirm. “I mean absolutely no offence,” he says before turning back to his mother, “but he doesn’t even look intimidating! If you were going to do something this brash at least you could’ve picked someone a little bigger. With the sunglasses and the ominous earpiece or summat. This is ridiculous! No offense, again, Harry.”

Harry smirks and drawls, “None taken.”

“Louis, I need you to calm down.” Johannah says, her palms flat against the table, as if they’re the only thing keeping her rooted to her seat.

“You think I need to calm down? Me? I’m the one who was bloody attacked but you’re out there picking out a bodyguard for me without my consent! I’m completely calm and hopeful that this situation will blow over -- if we give it time. You’re the one who needs to calm down and be rational and send this young man home, as his services will absolutely not be needed.” Louis is speaking incredibly fast and when he stops to take a breath, he hears a small chuckle from across the table.

His eyes dart to the source of the sound, and he gives his best deadly stare, but Harry is still smirking.

“ _What,_ may I ask, is so funny?”

Harry bites at his bottom lip, unable to stop himself from chuckling again, “You just don’t seem particularly calm to me.”

“Well. Seeing as you’re here without my consent, I’d say you should just fuck right off then.”

“ _Louis_ —“ his mother cuts in, imploring him, “Harry is here because I’ve asked him to be. Please take a deep breath, go, take a walk or something, and come back here when you’re ready to discuss this arrangement as an adult.”

Louis stands up quickly, harrumphing again, “Seems I’ll never be ready for that conversation. Have a lovely day, and Harry, I hope you have a nice life. I’ll be retreating to my room until my mother comes to her senses.”

“Fine by me!” Johannah calls after him, “At least you’re safe there!”

“Fuck _off_ , mum!” Louis cries, stamping his foot before stomping up the stairs back to his room.

Immediately Louis hops back into his bed, wraps the duvet around his shoulders, and huffs angrily. Only moments pass before he isn’t sure who he’s mad at any more. Obviously he’s mad at his mum, but she didn’t do anything he didn’t expect. He’s also a tiny bit mad at himself because if he really is stuck with that Harry fellow, then he’s just made an idiot of himself straight away. Not that it really matters. Maybe it’ll inspire Harry to decline the position to avoid working with him. Maybe Louis acting like a toddler was a stroke of accidental genius.

Or maybe he’s just made himself look like a twat.

He can see the headlines now. _Prince Louis, Gay, Entitled Twat, Too Effeminate to Defend Himself_.

Louis groans and falls on his back. He _knows_ his mum means well, but the idea of his coming out becoming an even bigger spectacle makes Louis sick. He had wanted to be honest, but he didn’t realize that sharing this part of him meant he couldn’t be Louis anymore. He feels like his core is being ripped from his chest, but no one can see the gaping hole behind his giant new label.

After a short, restless nap, Louis hears a knock at his door for the second time this morning. He bids them entry and is unsurprised to find Marissa back at his door.

“You alright there, Lou?”

In lieu of an answer, Louis makes a low-pitched whimper into his pillow.

“Well, I have a message from the Queen for you.”

Louis sits up, fixing his fringe and sighs, “Did she call me a little shit and tell me to come downstairs?”

Marissa laughs. “You’re very close actually. She said it’s time to put your big boy pants on and grow the fuck up. She’ll see you in the courtyard in ten.”

“There’s not much room for a reply then, is there?”

“It would appear not.”

“She wants to get me a bodyguard, Riss. She’s being ridiculous.”

“Is she?”

“What, don’t you think so?”

Marissa shrugs, her smile sincere and apologetic. “After last night… who knows what might happen, Lou. It’s really not worth the risk.”

Louis sighs, “You saying I couldn’t stick up for myself in a fight?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t have to.”

Louis grimaces but thanks Marissa on her way out. He has ten minutes to think of some way to talk his mother out of this.

Unfortunately, ten minutes is just enough time for him to fix his hair and put on a less sleep-crumpled shirt and still get to the courtyard in time. By the time he’s stepping outside into the warm air, he’s out of time, and the only sufficient comeback he has for his mother is fuck off. That didn’t seem very effective the first time.

His new bodyguard is still there, much to Louis’ disdain. He’s standing with his arms clasped behind his back, broad shoulders on display. Louis shakes his head, and turns to more important matters, like his unamused mother stirring her tea as though it’s done her wrong.

Louis’ lips turn downward as he comes closer. It seems with each step he becomes more aware of the fact that he’s not getting his way with this one. He walks to the table and begrudgingly nods to his mother before taking a seat.

“You ready to discuss this?”

“Don’t suppose I have a choice, do I?”

Johannah merely smiles. That’s when Louis knows he’s fucked.

The details are then given to him, not proposed. Harry will move in effective tomorrow. He will gather his things and move into the room just across the hall from Louis’ own chamber. He’s not sure why it’s necessary that Harry resides so close to him, but when he so much as opens his mouth to argue he receives a slap on the wrist.

After trying and failing to force any discussion, Louis returns to his room to mope. He bemoans any and all decisions that have led him to this situation. He takes lunch _and_ dinner in his room that day and lets himself feel annoyed and betrayed and stuck in circumstances he apparently has no say in at all.

 

The first official day of Harry’s employment, Louis doesn’t leave his room. Well, he does a few times. Twice for food, and again to go pester his sisters. His bedroom is big but there’s not all that much to do in it, especially when he spent most of the previous day exhausting all of its options. Besides, what good is having younger sisters if you can’t tug their pigtails every once in a while?

Harry is sitting in the hall outside Louis’ room—his phone clutched with both hands, typing furiously. Louis jumps at the sight of him, and when Harry glances up from his phone, it’s only a moment before he’s standing to follow.

Louis raises a hand. “Not necessary.”

Harry raises one eyebrow. “Where you heading then?”

“I’m going to see my sisters.”

“Here?”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Yes, _here_ , where the hell else would they be?”

Harry shrugs, “Just want to make sure you’re not sneaking out, is all.”

Louis laughs at that outright. “You wouldn’t have a clue if I was sneaking out, believe me. I’m good at being discreet.”

Harry’s eyes dart back down to his phone a second, his brows furrowing as he goes to type a reply quickly. Louis wonders briefly whom in Harry’s life can gain his attention so wholly. Maybe a Probably a girlfriend.

Why wouldn’t Harry ask to bring a girlfriend? Is he allowed guests? He should probably investigate. He knows next to nothing about this handsome stranger that’s responsible for his life.

“What?”

“What?” Louis asks, registering Harry’s stare from just above him.

“You were staring.”

Louis scoffs, “I was _not_.”

Harry smirks, “You were though. Is there something on my shirt?”

Louis feels a foreign warmth in his cheeks. Is this what it’s like to be embarrassed? He was just… He was curious about…

Oh _fuck_ this.

“Whatever, I’m going downstairs to see my sisters. They’re definitely not going to pull a knife or anything so you can just. Just sit. Stay.”

Something devious flashes in Harry’s eyes, “You trying to train me like a dog, or something?”

“I mean, you look like your name should be Fido, or some shit, so. Yeah. Sit. Stay.”

“Is it the hair?”

That smirk on Harry’s face just won’t go away, and Louis can feel his hands squirming at his sides. Something about having Harry looking directly at him has him feeling… intimidated? Overwhelmed, maybe?

He really needs to go downstairs.

“Sure, whatever, it’s the hair. Just don’t follow me, alright?”

Harry chuckles, “Sure, Your Highness. I’ll be right here if you decide you want to go out or something.”

Louis cringes at the title, and walks away.

 

Several days go by, and their encounters are much the same. Harry looks at Louis like he’s waiting for something, and Louis thinks he’ll be waiting forever.

 

On one of those particularly quiet days, Louis sits ruefully in his room, wondering when his mother will cave into this nonsense and allow Harry to go home. He’s starting to itch with the need to step outside. Is this what cabin fever feels like? Will he suffer actual neurological consequences if he doesn’t step outside soon? His mind creeps to demented images of clinically insane Prince Louis eating grass when he hears a knock at his door.

The sound is quiet. If Louis had turned any music on he wouldn’t have heard it. He nearly bids them entrance, but decides he should just go answer the door himself. It gives him something to do after all.

When he opens it, he sees one Harry Styles.

Louis rolls his eyes at the sight of him, and nearly shuts the door in his face, but something about the urgency in Harry’s demeanor stops him.

Or maybe it’s the sincere cry.

“Please, don’t!”

Louis rests his hip against the doorframe. “What do you want?”

“Do you… wanna go somewhere?” Harry says, biting at his lower lip. Louis raises an eyebrow.

Harry looks nervous, or maybe just unsettled. He stands at the other side of the doorframe, looking a lot less sturdy than he has other times Louis has faced him this way.

“Will you be accompanying me?”

Harry nods. “Yes. Can we _please_ , just—“

“Nope. I won’t be leaving until I can go without you.” Louis says quickly, shutting the door.

He turns back to face his room. Surely there’s something good on television. He can do jumping jacks while he watches. Physical activity will keep him from becoming insane, right?

He’s only taken a few steps when he hears the small knock at his door again.

He turns on the balls of his feet and walks quickly to the door.

When he opens it again, Harry beams at him, which is… irritating.

“Look, Harry. I don’t think you’re getting this. It’s not personal. I’m just on a strike of sorts. If I can’t go alone, I don’t want to go at all.”

“I’m just so _bored_ , is the thing.” Harry says, bouncing in place. He might actually be pouting.

“Well, then maybe you should quit. Go work for someone who wants your assistance.”

“I can’t do that, though. Already signed a binding contract, and shit.”

“Call a friend or something,” Louis says, annoyed. Harry should know how to entertain himself just fine, there’s no reason Louis should be advising him. “Or there’s a lot of other people here who work for my family and I’m sure you’d get along with them. So just. Socialize or something, I don’t know.”

“Can’t let you sneak out, though.” Harry shrugs, “And look, it’s not like I want to hang out with you. God knows you don’t want to hang out with me. I just... really need to see a part of this castle that isn’t this hallway, or my room, and I’d prefer it to be outside. You look like you could use some sunshine so just… humor me, yeah?”

“I’m too busy being an activist to care about whether you need to see the sun.”

“You realize activists do stuff like this for _other people_ , right? Not themselves?”

“I am on strike against the injustice of my mother deciding what’s best for me when I am a fully functional _adult_ , thank you very much.”

“You’re a fully functional adult that doesn’t think it’s a big deal that one of your subjects tried to punch you in the face,” Harry chuckles, “You know you’re being ridiculous, right? Maybe some _sunshine_ will help you think a little more clearly.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I am _bored_ , Your _Highness_. I’ve just beat Angry Birds on my phone. Do you know how long it takes to beat Angry Birds? It takes a long-ass time, and I’ve just done it in a week, so I’d _really_ like to see the sun, please.”

“Right, first of all, _don’t_ speak to me that way. And second, who even _plays_ Angry Birds anymore?” Louis deplores.

“I do. Because I’m fucking _bored_ ,” Harry replies hysterically.

“What, do you think I’m any better off? I hate daytime television, but guess what I’m stuck with!”

“You have a _TV in there_?”

“I’m the fucking heir to the throne! Of _course_ I have a TV in here!”

Harry stands before him, flabbergasted and a little irritated.

Louis throws his arms in the air. “What are you even still doing here? Go buy yourself a new app or something. The protest is still _on_!”

He lets the heavy door fall shut, pointedly. He makes an offensive gesture at the door and waves his arms angrily. He’d have done it to Harry’s face if he could but the door fell too fast. Not Louis’ fault.

He’s about to make a pact to leave the door unanswered for the rest of the day, when a different, more firm knock is heard. He’s positive it’s not Harry this time, so he answers it himself and is unsurprised at the sight of Phillip, one of the servants.

“Louis, your mother is asking for you.”

“Thank you,” Louis sighs, “There are no guests present, are there? Just mum?”

Phillip nods. “Just your mother, yes. She seems very displeased with you.”

“That is a vast understatement, Phil.”

Phillip remains neutral, ever the unimpressed one, and makes his exit.

When Louis makes his way downstairs to his mother’s study, he’s unsurprised to find her waiting at her desk, hands folded,with a thoroughly unimpressed stare waiting for him. He meets her eyes, and feels his shoulders sag. No matter how old Louis gets, his mother might be the only one who knows how to take him down a few notches with a look.

Mildly ashamed, Louis takes a seat across from her.

He glances at his feet, but he can feel her gaze, steady and true, waiting for his acknowledgement.

“Hi, mum.”

“You done with your nonsense yet?”

Louis sighs, “It’s not nonsense mum. You have to see where I’m coming from. Just a little bit.”

“I do see where you’re coming from. And it is a rude, ridiculous place that apparently inspires unacceptable behavior.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Mum, I _told_ you. If I need a bodyguard to go anywhere, then I just won’t. In some roundabout way, you got what you wanted.”

“The last thing I want is for you to be miserable, Louis.” Johannah barely shakes her head. “I want you to be happy. And I want you to be safe. I know that being in town makes you and the citizens happy. But recently it’s come to my attention that without precaution, you won’t be safe. And that’s unacceptable.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is. He was drunk—“

“And his actions warranted an arrest, regardless of his state.”

Louis hadn’t actually considered that. He’d been so busy brushing it off, he hadn’t thought of the potential repercussions of that man’s actions.

“If you had been seriously hurt, some old laws would have called for his _death_. The assault alone should give him a very long sentence.”

His mother didn’t know who the citizen was. Louis hadn’t said, and it would seem that any witnesses had kept their mouths shut as well. So maybe in some small way, Louis would know that his mother would prefer to have the citizen’s head. And he knows that reporting it would be nowhere near an overreaction. But in all honesty, any point blank reaction would have put Louis up for more scrutiny. Those headlines would read: _Gay and Merciless, Prince Louis Unfit to Lead Our Country._

And he knows that he can’t allow the people to lead _him_. He can’t let their hurtful words affect him so much. But they are his people, and he is theirs. It would be just as silly to completely disregard their opinion of him.

“In just a few weeks, the people of our country will be here, in our home, for the Cinderella ball,” Johannah speaks into the silence. “And I know how much it means to you, darling, to invite them here. I know what that gesture means to you. But the last thing I need is to invite people here to harm my son.”

For the first time, her face softens, and she reaches out for Louis’ hand.

“I know this feels like a sacrifice of your independence. I know it’s a blow to your pride. I understand all of that, and I am sorry. But this is as much about protecting my country as it is my dear, beloved son. You have to understand that.”

Louis nods. He does.

“I love you _very_ much. And if anything were to happen to you, it would have incomprehensible consequences. Not only for my own wellbeing, but for the future wellbeing of the people of this country. So if you won’t accept a bodyguard for me, you have to accept one for them.”

Louis fiddles with the sleeves on his jumper and heaves a sigh before looking up to meet his mother’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, what was that?”

“What?”

“What you just said, the last part. I missed it.”

Johannah’s grin is sly and Louis fights back a laugh.

“Oh, fuck off, mum.”

“I don’t believe that’s what you said, Boo.”

“Oi, leave me alone,” Louis laughs, “I said you were right, okay?”

“Good,” she grins, wide and sincere, “so you’ll take an outing soon then? I think Harry’s going mad in his room. Go for his sake, honestly. He’s been very patient.”

She has no idea.

As Louis makes his way back upstairs he finds himself hurrying. Maybe he’s more than a little desperate to step outside. When he reaches the right hallway, he spots Harry immediately. He’s put on this ridiculously large hat, and he’s lying down on a bench outside Louis’ room with his phone in both hands at least a foot away from his face in the air.

Louis shakes his head, and walks briskly to his bedroom door. “Grab your parasol, Harry. We’re going for a walk.”

Harry doesn’t move, merely glances up at Louis.

“My parasol?”

“To match your stupid hat, yeah.”

“I mean, technically, wearing this hat means I don’t _need_ a parasol, you know. My face is already protected from the sun.”

Louis searches Harry’s face for any sign of humor. There’s no quirk of his lips, or brow and Louis doesn’t find a trace of evidence that he’s kidding. He gives up when he thinks to be embarrassed for staring.

“Would you stop wasting time and just grab your things, Curly.”

“I’m ready when you are, Quiff.”

Louis stares pointedly at Harry as he sits up. When he sees Louis’ face he laughs, “Your Highness, then?”

Louis scrunches his nose in distaste. “Honestly stop with that one. Just Louis is fine.”

“Just Louis, then.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “I’ll be right back, just going to put on some shoes.”

“I’ll be here,” Harry sighs dramatically.

Honestly, that boy needs to be slapped. He looks too much like a teddy bear to be this good at sassing. Nobody is allowed to out-sass Prince Tommo. He’s the master.

The walk to the front door is silent, unsurprisingly, as he can feel Harry trying very hard to match his pace and not run at full force towards the sun. It’s funny and sort of adorable. Louis was almost that eager a few moments ago, but seeing how much effort Harry is using to subdue himself, Louis can’t bring himself to walk any faster. It makes their walk to the door much longer than necessary and the sound of their feet much louder. Louis almost laughs.

When they finally make it to the front door, Harry stops them with an arm in front of Louis’ torso.

“Can I have a moment?” He asks abruptly.

“A moment?”

“Yes, I’m not going to seem very bodyguard-ly for three seconds, is that allowed?”

“You’re asking me if your existence is allowed.”

“So we’re cool, then?”

Louis chuckles, “Sure, Harry, do what you have to do.”

Harry pushes the front door open, and steps forward both arms held out wide at his sides, head tilted towards the sun. Louis takes a step forward, rests his hip against the giant door frame and observes. Once Harry’s found a clear beam of sunlight, Louis watches him sink to the ground knees first and lie down flipping onto his back. Harry then releases something between a sigh and a moan. It’s so loud, Louis can hear it from several feet away. He conceals his laughter and decides to approach.

He walks forward on the gravel, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind. His eyes are closed and he’s lying very still, and if Louis hadn’t just watched the dramatics, he’d wonder if Harry was dead.

“You alright, then?”

“I missed the sun, _so much_.” Harry says, growing louder with each word.

As far as bodyguards go, Louis always thought dogs make a great comparison. It would seem that Harry Styles is a cat and he’s not sure if that’s better or worst.

“You were right. This isn’t very bodyguard-ly.”

Harry smirks and sighs before standing to his feet.

“At your service, Sir.” He salutes.

Louis giggles in spite of himself, “You are bloody ridiculous.”

Harry smiles and falls back to Louis’ side, and they walk together out of the golden palace gates, bidding  good day to the guardsmen.

They walk side by side quietly for a while. It’s nice, but it’s awkward, and Louis finds himself longing for the days he’d make these walks by himself. It never used to be so hard. He’d tip his imaginary hat and shake a hand and greet people by their first name. Usually it was like greeting old friends. Now, with Harry at his side, he feels like he’s about to be fed to the wolves.

He remembers what his mum had said earlier, about doing this for the good of his people -- and now, nearly amongst them, it seems less inspiring and more contrived. He feels like a twat, honestly.

Harry reaches into a pocket on his shirt, pulls out a pair of aviators and puts them on.

“Well, now you look bodyguard-ly.” Louis chuckles.

“What, I didn’t before?”

“Cute. You think you’re tough.”

“I _am_ tough. I’m significantly bigger than you, even.”

“Oi, why don’t you fuck right off with that one,” Louis says, unable to keep from sneering.

“Cute. You don’t think you’re petite.” Harry smirks.

“Shut it, Styles.” Louis keeps his gaze straight ahead.

“You’re a Labrador in a Chihuahua’s body,” Harry chuckles.

“I said fuck _off_ , Styles.”

“Don’t worry, I know your bark is worse than your bite.”

“I hate you, you know.” Louis chuckles breathily because he can’t help it. “Can’t believe I listened to my mother. Should’ve let you go nuts in your room.”

Harry laughs, “Sorry, I’ll stop. It’s fun getting a rise out of you.”

“Not many people do,” Louis admits.

“Get a rise out of you?” Harry asks, brows quirking, “Why not?”

“They don’t try,” Louis shrugs, “Rest of the staff and I get along well enough, but I’m the Prince and they don’t think they’re allowed to poke fun at me.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows, “Is this you telling me to be more like them?”

Louis thinks about it, and now he’s not sure why he admitted any of that at all. Maybe because his stomach is doing flips and he feels his cheeks going pink, and he keeps trying not to giggle. He likes it. But Harry can’t know that.

“Guess you’ll never know, eh?”

Harry smirks, “Alright, _Your Highness_.”

Louis smacks his shoulder, and Harry barks a surprised laugh.

They keep walking and Louis feels his stomach start clenching. They’re approaching the busier part of town, and Louis feels this dread in his gut and a hammering in his chest that he really didn’t foresee. As dirt roads become paved sidewalks Louis finds himself grazing shoulders with people here and there as he makes his way through. It always starts this way. It’s easy to start with, because people don’t know to look for him. But once they reach the heart of town, he starts to see the people who usually like to see him.

“Don’t worry, Louis. If anyone tries anything at all, you’ll be safe. That’s why I’m here.”

“Shut up.” Louis says, quickly. “I’m fine.”

Harry looks irritated, but he just barely shows it. Louis wonders if other people can read him like that. Can people smell his fear?

They walk through the crowd and Harry seems to be admiring the atmosphere. It’s always been a cute little place, with shops of varied bright colors squeezed in next to each other. Most shops have been open since before Louis’ Nan can even remember, having been passed down from generation to generation. They all share the same old qualities — chipping paint on the siding, but bright smiles inside to make up for it.

Louis receives a few hellos, and for the most part, all is well. There’s more whispering than usual — people keeping comments to themselves and the person nearest to them. Louis imagines their comments to be malicious, or maybe just curious, or maybe something that’s not even about him. He tries to imagine that the whispers are all about Harry’s stupid hat or something, and it makes him feel a little better. He knows their comments will likely be made clear in the news tomorrow anyway. He hadn’t thought of his first outing after the incident as being headline worthy, but he supposes if he’s not alone, it might be.

They stop in a small shop for some tea. Ed Walsh, the owner, stands behind the counter, and Louis makes three steps toward the register before it’s clear that Mr. Walsh won’t be looking him in the eye. When another Harry steps in front of Louis, Mr. Walsh answers to him immediately. It’s disheartening, to say the least.  But Harry orders on Louis’ behalf when he asks. Louis learns that Harry likes a lump of sugar in his and is too flustered to tease him over it — stupid cat-like bodyguard that needs a moment with the sun and puts sugar in his tea.

When they step outside, Louis sees plenty of other people he’d normally have a pleasant exchange with, and it seems none of them are interested in anything past hello. Now they keep their eyes down and seem relieved when he walks away. It’s embarrassing that he thought so highly of these people and that he’s given them the power to hurt him this way.

He hadn’t imagined this for himself when he decided to come out. He had been naïve, maybe, but he genuinely believed they wouldn’t care. He even wondered how many would say they knew all along. He didn’t think it would be a particularly aggressive elephant in the room, keeping people from addressing him at all.

He glances at Harry, who seems at ease and unaware of the awkwardness as he sips his tea. He must feel Louis’ eyes, and glances towards him. He smiles and offers a small thumbs up and Louis realizes. Harry is the elephant.

People don’t want to talk to him because he’s with someone, and that someone is supposed to protect him, and it’s made him just as unapproachable as he feared.

He looks away, face stern. They should probably just go.

Louis says as much under his breath, and Harry looks confused as he trails behind. They walk at a brisk pace back to the palace.

“You okay?” Harry asks, once they’re far from any crowds.

“Fine.”

They reach the palace gates and Louis doesn’t slow his pace all the way inside.

He forgets Harry’s even there until he’s made it to his chamber and he hears Harry call after him.

“Just go away,” Louis says, quickly. He hears his voice crack a little, and knows it’s given him away.

He shuts his door behind him and hears that gentle signature knock.

“Harry, go away.” Louis calls at the door. “I want to be alone.”

He hears the knock again and, frustrated, he walks to the door and opens it.

“What part of ‘I want to be alone’ do you not understand?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Harry mumbles, voice deep.

Louis rolls his eyes, “What does it look like?”

Harry goes to speak again, but Louis cuts him off, voice thick. “I’ll see you later, Harry.”

He shuts the door in Harry’s face and proceeds to fall face first on his bed. And if he lets himself have a good cry, then that’s nobody’s business but his own.

 

Louis isn’t sure how much time passes before the feeling of loneliness seeps in. It’s clear he’s not welcome amongst his own people, and he doesn’t really fancy the pity from his mum right now. He could call for a maidservant. Maybe Marissa would be willing to listen to him pout. He thinks the better of that—the girl deals with him enough—and reaches out for his phone.

He’d left it plugged in while he and Harry had gone out, and is unsurprised to find zero missed calls or text messages. Being a Prince comes with many things; an active social life isn’t one of them. At least, not the kind Louis would prefer. Of course there are outings he’s expected to attend, big events, and he’d consider walking out alone to be a nice social event as well. What he’s always been short on, is friends.

It’s hard being only eight years old and realizing that some people are nice for selfish reasons. Only three people in Louis’ life have ever really loved him. He scrolls through his phone to find those names with purple heart emojis and picks one.

Niall picks up on the third ring. She sounds breathless, like she’s just finished laughing, and Louis smiles because it’s familiar and comforting. If Niall is happy, surely the world is not lost.

“What’s up, Lou?”

“Oh, not much. Are you busy?”

He hears her squirm a little, and there’s a small squeal in the background.

“Nialler, if you’re busy it’s fine.”

“No, no, hold on, Lou just—“ she’s cut off her own loud laugh.

Louis sits up and squirms a little himself, “Ni, is Zayn there?”

“Hi Lou!” he hears Zayn’s thick accent yell over the top of more squirming and rustling.

He almost hangs up when he hears one last thud and a faraway sigh.

“Lou, you’re on speaker phone. Tell Zayn to please behave because I don’t like to.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Louis asks, wary.

“Nothing important,” Niall says quickly.

He hears Zayn make an affronted sound and practically squeal, “I resent that!”

“Honestly, Lou, tell her to please behave. I’d do it meself but you don’t see her eyes. You’ve more willpower than I do!”

Louis takes a deep breath. He should’ve called Liam.

Things have gone quiet on the other line. He can’t hear any squirming or giggling and Louis almost wonders if he’s already lost both of them to a quiet snog when he hears Zayn’s soft voice.

“Lou? You okay?”

Louis sighs for the millionth time, “Yeah.”

“I call bullshit,” says Niall. “Sorry we’ve been twats. Why’d you call Lou? You need to chat?”

Louis smiles despite himself. He feels bad for interrupting, but he knows it’s rare that any phone call over the last few years _hasn’t_ interrupted something between those two.

“It’s okay if you do,” Zayn says, her voice a soft comfort where Niall’s is loud and affirming.

“Have you seen all of it? The articles and stuff?” He asks, feeling his voice go thick as he tries to focus on some spot on his ceiling.

“Yeah, Lou. It’s such bullshit.”

“We’re so proud of you, though, Lou. You were really brave, like.”

“They omitted the part where you took that guy out, right?” Niall giggles, “Broke his nose and threw his ass in your royal dungeon or summat.”

Louis chuckles, “You know we don’t have a dungeon, love.”

“He got his arse arrested though, right?”

“Not really,” Louis admits. “I um… I was sort of in shock? I didn’t really do anything about it at all.”

“Lou,” he can hear the sympathy in Niall’s voice, maybe the first time this whole conversation he hasn’t heard a smile.

“I know that coming out isn’t easy.” Louis says, quietly, “But I really don’t feel brave at all. I feel like an idiot. My mum got me a bodyguard and—“

“Louis you _are_ brave. You are. And what’s that about a bodyguard?” Zayn asks, intrigued.

“Well, the guy wasn’t arrested. And I haven’t really… told my mum who it is? She had to protect me somehow, I guess. I was pretty pissed but Harry’s nice, I suppose.”

“Is he cute?” Niall asks, smug.

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis laughs.

Niall laughs with him, “I’m just asking!”

“Suppose you don’t need another scandal on your hands, do ya,” Zayn says, giggling along with them.

“Oh god, it would be a nightmare. A total nightmare. Besides that, he’s proper annoying and hell bent on doing his job. We went for a walk today and just. Everybody steered clear. It was horrible.” Louis buries his face in a pillow. “I’ve never been afraid to step outside before. Like, who I am has always been a cause for concern, but I always just laughed that off. It didn’t matter so much that they like me because they had to. I didn’t realize that being honest about my sexuality meant everyone avoided me like the plague. Though, the idiot in the aviators walking with me probably didn’t help.”

“He wore aviators?” he hears Zayn laugh, “Did you get him an earpiece too?”

“That’s what I said!” Louis laughs.

They talk for a while after that and when they bid each other byes and love yous, Louis feels warm as he hangs up the phone.

Later that night, Louis tosses and turns under his sheets. He’s tired, but he’s restless and he can’t relax. He spent his evening with his mum and the girls, tugging pigtails and discussing arrangements for the quickly approaching Cinderella ball. It was nice. He’s been so busy pouting in his room the last week, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the time with his family.

Maybe that’s why his room is the last place he’d like to be right now. He has spent a ridiculous amount of time in this very position—curled up in the center of his bed, mind whirring and spinning out of control. Maybe he just needs some fresh air.

He throws his duvet to the side, and puts on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. It’s late, so Louis handles his bedroom door with care, so as not to wake anyone nearby. The lights in the hall are at a dim glow, and the silence is a bit eerie.

It makes Louis grin as he thinks back to late nights with Liam in these hallways. He can almost hear Liam’s paranoid whispers. Louis chuckles when he remembers how he still always managed to convince him to put that whipped cream outside the queen’s door anyway. His mum always loved making Liam squirm with guilt before assuring him that Louis would be the one to have his xbox taken away.

It was worth it every time.

Louis’ bare feet guide him to the stairwell at the end of the hall, where Louis always goes on nights like this. He walks up the stairs and opens the series of doors that leads him to his very favorite rooftop. It’s the one with a garden. It’s pretty large as far as rooftops go, and it’s not at all tilted, so Louis (and those concerned with Louis’ whereabouts) don’t need to worry about him falling off. The garden had been his mum’s idea, and when Louis was small he remembered spending hours up here in the sun, helping with the planting and the watering.

Marissa was hired on to take care of it some time ago, and it’s how she came to be Louis’ favorite. He used to pester her up here and try to tell her she was watering things wrong. It was fun watching her face twist up when forced to choose between obeying Louis’ ridiculous orders and actually taking care of the flowers. She chose the flowers every time, but not without multiple apologies that always made Louis laugh.

Louis walks to the edge and looks through the gate installed for his safety. Louis wasn’t necessarily spoiled as a child, but he did learn from a very young age that keeping him alive was everyone’s number one priority. He was a curious child, and this priority was probably put to the test more than is normal for other parents and servants alike.

Louis inhales. The cool night air stings a little when he breathes it in, but the moonlight is comforting and the pavement feels nice on his bare feet. He runs a few fingers through his loose fringe as he leans forward against the gate and looks out at the city below. He frowns and tries to find some star to wish on. It’s silly, but maybe part of him wishes he could take it all back. He knows coming out is brave and important, but he actually feels like this gate on the roof of the palace might as well be in front of him all the time. He told the truth and it’s barred him inside. It’s keeping him from where he wants to be and made enemies of the people he loves.

“Ouch!”

Louis snaps his head up and turns toward the sound to find, of course, Harry standing by one of the ferns holding one of his feet. Well, trying to. For such a firm looking human, Harry clearly lacks balance.

“What are you doing up here?” Louis asks with an air of defeat.

Harry freezes, then slowly sets his foot down with wide eyes, still bent over, because it would seem Louis caught him by surprise.

“Making sure you’re okay.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Bullshit. You were making sure I wouldn’t sneak out.”

Harry seems like he wants to say something, but he cuts himself off with a shrug of admittance.

“Well, you’ve done your job then,” Louis says, hoping he’ll understand the hinted dismissal.

“Are you… okay, though?”

Louis can hear Harry’s voice growing louder, apparently approaching him from behind. He doesn’t care much to take his eyes off the view. Besides that, Harry can just fuck off. It’s not like he actually cares.

“I’m fine. You can leave.”

“We can talk about it, if you want,” Harry starts, “Like, I was there today. I saw how upset you were.”

Louis scoffs and still doesn’t turn around. “Honestly, this isn’t in your job description. I’m fine. I’m within the palace limits. You can go back to bed.”

“I don’t care about my job description, alright? I just need to be sure you’re okay.”

Louis turns to find Harry is standing much closer than he’d sensed. His brows are furrowed in a deep scowl, but he doesn’t look angry. He just looks confused. Like an ape or something—if that ape has beautiful hair and a fierce gaze that’s locked Louis in.

“I’m fine,” he says, but his words are soft and his eyes are wide and he feels a different kind of caged altogether with Harry this close.

Harry seems to realize then, just how close they are, just how intense he must look and exhales before taking a deliberate step back.

“Sorry,” he says, embarrassed. “I forget sometimes? About personal space?”

Louis lets out a harsh breath, amused, and nods, “S’fine.”

They stand there for a moment. It seems neither of them know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes again, “about today. I’m sorry that our walk didn’t really… I don’t know. You just seemed really upset and I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s not your fault,” Louis says, cutting him off, “honestly, I just didn’t expect it to be that awkward. It’s never been like that before.”

“They don’t usually ignore you?”

“I mean, they do to an extent. But they’ll talk to me like I’m one of them. It’s never been… I didn’t realize that I was so…”

“So what?”

“Gay,” Louis says without thinking.

Harry honks a laugh in response and Louis chuckles with him before correcting, “Okay, okay—I mean, I didn’t realize that being gay was such an issue. I didn’t think it was such a big deal that they’d be afraid of catching it if they stood too close.”

Harry tries and fails to match the deep set of Louis’ face, offset by the odd laugh he can’t seem to stifle. He opts for a pout and Louis thinks it’s adorable before he can stop himself.

“Louis, can I say something?”

Louis nods.

“I too, am ‘so gay’” he starts, cracking a wide grin, “and I think you should know that your coming out meant a lot to me. Most people who think they need a bodyguard are cowards. You’re really brave. It’s why I wanted to work for you.”

Louis sits on a piece of landscaping and can feel Harry staring at him, and he’s not really sure what to do with the information Harry’s willingly given him. On the one hand, he’s annoyed because people keep telling him he’s brave even though he’s spent the last week hiding in his room. On the other, Harry is gay which makes him feel much less immoral for enjoying their close proximity. A disarming third hand reminds him that Harry works for him and enjoying their closeness might be considered sexual harassment.

When he looks up and meets Harry’s warm eyes, he doesn’t know what to say. There’s about a billion different thoughts running through his mind at once, and it would seem the most urgent and shameful of them is a fleeting thought of further exploring that caging thing Harry did earlier.

He stands abruptly, quickly dismissing any thought that could possibly follow his last.

“Well, I’ve had enough of my own sob story for today. I’m turning in.”

He rushes past Harry, and suspects Harry will jog to catch up and match Louis’ pace. It’s a little aggravating when he’s proven right.

“I can walk you back,” he says once he’s reached Louis’ side.

Louis would tell him to fuck off, but he feels _bad_ doing that now. He and Harry know things about each other -- their relationship has changed. And besides that, Louis’ just sort of harassed Harry in his mind, and he feels like a dick enough already.

They walk briskly and in silence, and Louis feels relief when he sees their bedrooms approaching.

They stop in front of Louis’ bedroom and everything within him wants to just walk right past Harry into his room and shut the door without another word. Instead, he makes the fatal mistake of looking over to see Harry’s warm and sincere eyes. Harry stops suddenly, and Louis turns to find an apologetic and concerned look on his face.

“Listen, Louis, I hope you don’t think I over-shared or anything I just—“

“It’s fine. We’re fine. Thank you, for erm, sharing it with me. I’m glad it could… help you, I guess.”

He must look like he wants to run very far and very fast, because Harry looks concerned.

“It’s okay if it’s not okay. Like, for future reference, if you’d like to keep me from sharing personal things just. I will.”

Louis really doesn’t know what to say to that, and Harry is close, clearly still forgetting about personal space and Louis is just _letting_ him and he doesn’t usually disarm like this in front of people. The only people he stands this close to are his closest friends, but even that is different. They don’t make him feel so…

Louis doesn’t let himself finish that thought before he says, “Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry frowns, but says goodnight, and watches as Louis opens his door.

He looks sad, is the thing, and Louis doesn’t know why but instead of hurrying to shut the door, he says, “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

He wants to curse himself for it, but the answering smile on Harry’s face is worth it.

The next morning, when Louis is dressed and ready, he steps outside his room and briefly wonders why Harry isn’t waiting for him. That sounds awfully presumptuous. It’s only that Louis has gotten used to finding Harry outside his door. He’s slightly relieved, unsure how his sleepy morning brain would betray him at the sight of Harry sprawled out on that bench like he always is. He shudders a little, and makes his way downstairs to the dining room.

He finds Harry is already there, as is his mother, and the sight is mildly horrifying. They’re laughing and chatting and it should be nice and endearing, but it makes him nervous. He takes the seat on his mother’s other side, across from Harry and can’t help but glance across as Harry smiles at his plate, collecting himself.

“What are we chatting about then?”

Johannah smiles and reaches for Louis’ hand to squeeze, “Not much, love. Was wondering when you’d make your way down here.”

“Well, here I am,” Louis shrugs.

Harry keeps to himself across the table and Louis wants to know why. He hadn’t meant to interrupt anything, and he wishes they wouldn’t seem so secretive.

“Alright, Harry?” Louis asks. He feels a swift kick in the gut when Harry looks up at him, wide eyed like he’s surprised Louis’ spoken to him.

“Yeah, fine.” He says quickly. “You?”

Louis nods.

The silence from there is awkward, only broken by a lovely servant called May setting a plate in front of Louis. He thanks her, quietly, and Johannah is the first one to break the silence. Louis wonders if she feels the tension the same way he does.

“Are you two ready for an eventful day, then?”

Louis glances at his mother an eyebrow raised, “How do you mean?”

Johannah sighs. “Louis, we’ve been over this. There’s a lot left to do before this weekend, you can’t just stay cooped up in your room—“

“No, mum, I’m just not sure what you mean. I didn’t know we had plans today.”

Johannah shakes her head. “Well, I half expected you to do some of it when you were in town yesterday. You’ve still got to finalize things for the ball.”

Louis’ eyes widen. He’d nearly forgotten the ball. He curses to himself. He’s been so preoccupied with defying his mother and generally being a little bitch he almost forgot about the ball entirely. He knows he’s been selfish and petty and he glances at his mother with sorry eyes.

“You ready to go back to town today, Harry?”

Harry, having kept his gaze downward, meets his eyes then, questioning.

“Sorry to tell you you’ll have to taste a shit ton of cakes with me. It’ll be much more trying than the last trip we took.”

Harry smiles, small and amused, “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

 

After breakfast, he bids his mother farewell with a kiss on the cheek and begins walking while his mum and Harry say their own goodbye. It’s unusual, the casualness between them. His mother would consider the majority of their servants to be near and dear, but only after they’ve worked with the family for more than a month and proven themselves trustworthy. Not that Harry has ever made Louis feel like he couldn’t trust him—it’s just surprising to see him get on with his mum so well, and so quickly. Perhaps they had more bonding time while Louis was protesting.

Before long, Louis sets off to the city with Harry in tow. He stays behind Louis up until they reach the gate, then Harry takes one giant step to be right at Louis’ side.

“So, a ball?” Harry asks, “ I didn’t really think you lot did those.”

Louis shrugs, “We don’t really. This is a treat. Planned it ages ago, before all the erm… scandal happened. We’re calling it a Cinderella ball, and we’re giving all the children their very own ball gowns and suits and inviting them into the palace. Everyone’s invited. We’re just only supplying the clothes for the kids.”

Harry smiles, “That sounds fun.”

Louis nods, “It should be. Just have a lot to do before then. Have to pick out the clothes first so those can be distributed about town today.”

“Will you be doing the distributing?” Harry asks.

Louis shakes his head, “No, not me. We’ve arranged with the shop to have some of my servants help her employees with the distribution since it’s such a huge order.”

“Then what are we doing?”

“So many questions,” Louis says, laughing.

Harry smiles, but flushes slightly, “Sorry. I’m excited.”

Louis smiles brightly before he can help it.

“We’re going to the shops to finalize things is all. The order was placed months ago, but now they’ve finished a handful of the selections. I’ll be giving them the go ahead on the final steps.”

“Can’t you just do that over the phone?”

“Sure,” Louis shrugs, “But I wanted to see the baby dresses.”

Harry’s eyes soften at that, and the rest of their walk to the shop is quiet and comfortable.

Louis hardly notices the way Harry reaches an arm out near his own waist when they catch someone staring. It’s harder to miss when Harry’s hand lands on his hip. It feels friendly rather than guard-ly. And truth be told, it’s nice to walk the street and know that Harry has his back. His dreams have been less comforting lately, so it’s a comfort in real life to have the insurance of sorts.

When they arrive at the shop, he waves and is greeted with a hug by the owner. She’s an elderly woman with kind eyes. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”

“I told you, love. Call me Louis.”

She shakes her head and glances at Harry, “So informal, this one.”

Harry nods and laughs.

“I take it you’re here to see the clothes?”

Louis nods, and accepts the woman’s hand before she pulls him straight to the back of the shop. Harry follows.

All laid out on each table is at least a dozen finished dresses. Louis had requested a fair amount of designs so the children wouldn’t feel like they looked like everyone else, but the seamstresses have outdone themselves. He can’t see a single two dresses that look the same. Even every suit has a unique design in the pocket square. Louis picks one dress up, it’s the smallest on the table with purple ruffles.

Harry makes his way across the room, holding up tiny suits for Louis to see. Louis can’t help the way his own face scrunches up at them, and Harry laughs every time.

“You’ve really exceeded my expectations with these,” Louis says, eyes soft and insides squishy. He’s so excited that they took this request with such sincere intent.

“That was the goal,” she says with a wink. “We’re so excited to deliver them. There’s really only a few left, so we’re ready whenever you give us the go ahead.”

“The invitations were sent weeks ago, so we’re definitely ready for these to be distributed when you are.”

“Send your people our way then, darling. We’ll have the lot out by tomorrow.” She smiles warmly and approaches Louis, taking his hand in hers again.

“You know you didn’t have to go to all this trouble, right?” she asks, looking up at him. “You know that some of us love you just as you are. All of this is lovely, but you didn’t have to.”

Louis feels a little uncomfortable under her soft gaze.

“We planned on this long before all that,” Louis shrugs. “But thank you.”

He watches as she glances over at Harry, and then back to him.

“Regardless. The others will come round. Your heart’s too golden for them not to see how silly it all is.”

“Thanks, love,” he says as she drops his hand.

“Now, off you go. There’s still work to be done!”

Louis smiles and nods. “Lots of it. We’ll see you at the ball then? I hope you’ve made yourself something as special.”

She laughs and her eyes twinkle as Louis bids her farewell and walks out with Harry in front of him.

“That was really sweet,” Harry remarks once they’ve walked a ways.

“She’s really sweet,” Louis agrees. “She’s been a champ about any request my family has thrown at her for years. She made my mum’s coronation gown.”

“I meant you,” Harry says, quietly, eyes dancing. “Who knew a tiny baby suit was all it took to make you all mushy.”

Louis smacks his arm playfully and laughs, “Oh, do fuck off.”

Harry laughs with him as they walk. “She was sweet too, though.”

“Yeah.”

Louis can feel the burning in his cheeks, before they come up on their next shop. When they walk in, the greeting is much less warm and jovial than the last. Louis’ spoken to the owner over the phone a handful of times and recognizes his voice as he comes forward to shake Louis’ hand.

“Your Highness, what can I do for you?”

“We’re here to select a cake for the ball this weekend.”

The man glances between Louis and Harry. “Ah yes, I didn’t realize you’d be bringing anyone along.”

Louis glances over at Harry, who remains stone faced with his hands in his pockets.

“Uh, yes. This is Harry,” Louis gestures, “he’s with me.”

Harry looks surprised at the selected words. Louis doesn’t blame him. He just hadn’t really wanted to call him his bodyguard. It’s still embarrassing to Louis that he needs one. Still, perhaps he should’ve run that one by Harry first.

He feels Harry place a hand on the small of his back then, and he glances up at him quickly. Harry’s face remains neutral, but when the owner turns away, he offers Louis a short smirk and a wink.

Louis feels far too affected by the gesture.

They are brought to a small table in the back of the shop where the owner brings out a selection of their finest samples. Harry asks if there were supposed to be more, and Louis doesn’t tell him that his mother’s actually already selected a cake, and they don’t really need to be sampling at all.

The gentleman brought two forks for them to try each piece but Louis just steals

Harry’s the first time, and Harry laughs before stealing it back. The second fork remains neglected as they try red velvet and vanilla and even a coconut-flavored cake with almond frosting. Harry seems to really enjoy that, so when Louis places the order for the large chocolate cake his mother requested, he also slips in a request for a coconut cupcake to take with them.

They walk out the door together before Louis offers Harry the small box.

Harry is bewildered, “You absolutely did not have to do that.”

Louis laughs. “I know that.”

“Then you take it!” Harry says, “Give it to the girls or something!”

“You think those two could share this civilly?” Louis remarks with a laugh. “Consider it a peace offering. Sorry I was such a twat to you the last week.”

Harry sighs, but he’s smiling.

“You ready for some wine tasting?”

“Wine tasting?”

Louis nods, “Of course. Can’t have a ball without some of the finest wine our country has to offer.”

Harry laughs, “I don’t think I should drink on the job, Louis.”

Louis shakes his head, “Nonsense, a few glasses worth won’t compromise your ability to punch someone for me.”

Harry shakes his head, “I’m really not sure about that.”

“Oh come on, it’s our last stop anyway. We’re headed straight home afterwards. Can even get a ride if you don’t think it’s safe to drive those legs of yours.”

“These legs of mine are wobbly enough as it is,” Harry laughs, “And they’ve got to somehow guard yours too.”

“Do you think I didn’t notice how clumsy you are?” Louis pokes his arm, “You’ve literally tripped at _least_ once every block.”

“Exactly!” Harry laughs, “Alcohol will only make the legs situation worse!”

“Or maybe, you’re one of those people that becomes an incredibly poised dancer when you’re drunk. See, these are the things I’ll never know unless you try some wine with me.”

“You want to tamper with the legs situation?”

Louis giggles, “Yes, I do. Tampering with the legs situation is my top priority today.”

Harry raises his eyebrows at that, amused, and Louis can feel his insides squirming.

“You’re drinking the wine. Under my official royal orders.”

Harry laughs, “Whatever you say, _Your Highness_.”

Louis pushes him before walking in the winery door.

The greeting at the door is much like the one at the cake shop—polite, but not as warm as Louis might have expected a few weeks ago. He tries not to think about it before he introduces Harry. Harry shakes their hands and wears that bright smile of his, dimples and all, and Louis wants to laugh at how the woman doing the sampling for them melts. Louis wonders if he’s made that face today. They’re brought back to a similar space as the others they’ve visited today, and sit down with a couple sips worth of wine in front of them.

“What did I tell you? You’ll have barely had a glass by the time we’re through.”

Louis is not usually in the habit of being wrong, but every once in a while, a habit is broken without our realizing it. As they make their way from reds to pinks to whites, Louis realizes that he had been very wrong indeed.

It might be because they’ve been sitting down this whole time, or Harry making awful puns about the different wines, but his own head feels heavier on his shoulders than usual. When he looks over to Harry he finds him staring at the ground, forcefully keeping his eyes comically wide.

Louis giggles. “Doing okay over there?”

Harry blinks pointedly and glances up at him. His cheeks are rosy and his smile is lazy and he says, “Please tell me you’ve already called for a car.”

Louis just giggles more, leaning towards Harry and giggling against his shoulder. He feels the shake of Harry laughing with him when the sampler walks back in the room.

“Have we made our decision, then?”

Louis takes a deep breath to keep from laughing again, and nods.

He has Harry call for a car while he goes and selects the wines and pays the bill. When he’s signed all the right papers and the charge goes through he thanks the ladies in the shop profusely before Harry grabs his wrist and begins pulling him to the door.

Louis lets him pull him out the door before he retracts his hand. “Release me, you heathen!”

Harry laughs. “Lou, the car’s here.”

“I was saying goodbye to the nice ladies with the wine!”

Harry smiles wide and gestures for Louis to get in the car first. He does and giggles when Harry huffs as he falls in beside him. He pushes his hair back on his head before resting against the back of the seat.

“You’ll have barely had a glass when we’re through, he said! You’ll be fine, he said,” Harry huffs again. Louis giggles so hard he falls back against Harry’s shoulder.

“You knew I wanted to get you drunk!” Louis laughs.

“You knew I couldn’t deny your orders,” Harry laughs with him, “You’re a little shit, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” Louis waves a hand nonchalantly. “Doesn’t mean I’m not your favorite.”

Harry laughs, “I don’t know...I’ve had some pretty sweet jobs before you.”

Louis sits up to make an affronted noise. Harry dimples, and this time, Louis knows he’s no better than that poor girl at the winery.

“None of your other bosses ever let you get drunk on the job, I bet.”

“None of my other bosses kept me under house arrest for a week, either,” Harry teases.

When they pull up to the palace, Louis thanks the driver and gets out on his side of the car. Harry follows suit and offers Louis his arm, Louis takes it as they walk—and occasionally stumble—inside.

Louis isn’t sure how, but he quickly becomes accustomed to Harry’s company. It’s not something he’s totally aware of right away, the way he stays back until Harry’s ready to go to breakfast. Or the small touches, like Harry’s hand on the small of his back, and laughing into Harry’s shoulder.

Maybe he’s a little aware of it. Every time he touches Harry in any capacity—poking his knee under the table, or pulling his curls, he feels like a schoolboy with a crush. And when Harry returns the affection, Louis can’t quite ditch the little flip in his stomach. He’ll admit he’s just a sucker for physical affection, but deep down, Louis knows. He may or may not be a total goner for Harry Styles and his broad shoulders and his kind eyes and his infectious laugh and those damn fucking dimples.

Still, Louis hasn’t quite admitted it. For one, no one has asked. For two, well. It’s not like it’s really an option, is it?

The day Louis admits it happens to be the day Liam comes to stay at the palace. They had made plans ages ago, as Liam wanted to be part of the ball. Louis was excited to see him, but when he actually arrived, things became more awkward than expected.

The sound of the dining hall door opening surprises him and the familiar face being escorted inside makes him jump.

“Tommo!”

Louis hadn’t really expected to see Liam at breakfast. The doors of the palace don’t open for the ball until five-thirty. He expected Liam to show up sometime after lunch. Louis quickly stops poking at Harry’s thigh, and stands.

“Payno!” he returns the exclamation, though even he can hear the nervous edge to it.

It’s forgotten as soon as Liam pulls him in for a hug. Louis holds tight and they jump a little in each other’s grip. They laugh before pulling away. Louis ruffles Liam’s well-coiffed hair, but Liam seems too happy to care.

“Missed you, mate!” Liam says, beaming. And Louis laughs, but his chest pangs, and he feels the exact same. Now that Liam’s here, it’s like a piece of his heart has inflated. He hadn’t even known it had fallen flat.

They make their way to the table together, and Louis feels his heart clench at the fond smile on Harry’s face.

“Hey, mate, I’m Liam,” Liam says, putting a hand out for Harry to shake. Harry accepts it and stands.

“I’m Harry,” he smiles. “And I should probably be going.”

Louis frowns, “Why?”

“Told the girls I’d help with their braids.” Harry shrugs, “Besides, I’m sure you two have catching up to do.”

Louis doesn’t remember Harry ever promising the twins he’d help with their braids, and he really doesn’t like the idea of Harry being gone.

“I’ll call for you if we go out, yeah?” Louis says. He tries to pass it off as business as usual, but he can hear the high-pitched, distressed quality in his voice.

Harry nods, “Sure, Lou. That’s fine. I’ll see you later.”

And then it’s just Louis with Liam, one of his best friends in the entire world, giving him this _stupid_ look.

“Who’s that then?”

“It’s Harry. Weren’t you listening, Payno?” Louis’ tone is dismissive, which would be at least ten times more effective if he had something to make him look preoccupied—he’s finished eating and Harry’s just gone upstairs, so he can’t busy himself playing with his curls.

“That why you decided to come out?”

If Louis had water in his mouth, he’d promptly spit it out. Instead he contorts his face and quickly shakes his head. “Liam, he’s my bodyguard.”

Liam’s eyes bug out of his head as he laughs. “Oh, now that’s hilarious.”

Louis crosses his arms. “I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

Liam smiles fondly. “God, I missed you, Lou.”

And like that, any semblance of annoyance is gone. Louis can’t help it if his friend is a human hug. “Yeah, guess I missed you too.”

They beam at each other again because they’re disgusting and platonically in love.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

 

Louis doesn’t remember why he invited his friends. He knew the ball would be fun, he knew they might enjoy it. But he didn’t expect to be as relieved he is. He didn’t really think he’d need them. He hadn’t realized it until he was greeted by screaming in his ear and jumping and a long hug. Niall kissed his forehead before Zayn cut in for a squeeze. Niall wasn’t bothered, skipping to Liam to give him a similar greeting. He’s known them all for most of his young adult life, Liam for even longer, so he shouldn’t be surprised at how their presence makes him feel more at ease.

When Zayn let go and Louis looked into her big brown eyes, he sent a little thanks to his past self for having the foresight to invite them.

When Johannah stops by Louis’ room to say hello, Louis asks if there’s anything he needs to do before the doors open. With an armful of Liam, she shakes her head and smiles. “No, you enjoy your little reunion. We’ve got things all set down there. Just make sure you’re dressed and ready by five.”

“We’ll make sure he’s _dashing_ ,” Niall says, fluffing Louis’ hair.

Johannah smiles. “I’m sure you will, loves. See you tonight.”

They’ve a few hours to kill from there, so they busy themselves with FIFA while Zayn and Niall take turns fussing with each other’s hair.

“Zayn, it’s your turn,” Liam passes the controller off to her before settling in at the foot of Louis’ bed.

“If you move even a muscle while I’m fixing the back. I’ll murder you,” Niall says, in all seriousness, from behind.

“Like you’d dream of it,”

“I might dream of burning a piece of hair off if you’re not careful.”

Zayn giggles. “You couldn’t live with yourself.”

“Don’t test me,” Niall says with a kiss to the top of Zayn’s head.

“Oi, Zayn, you ready to lose or not?” Louis teases.

“You lot are full of shit and I don’t know why I hang out with any of you.” Zayn rolls her eyes.

“Because you love us,” Liam says from behind them.

“Of course I love _you_ , Leeyum. You’re the only one that’s nice to me.”

“I am plenty nice to you!” Niall cries. “How nice was I to you just this morning?”

Zayn waggles her eyebrows and turns to kiss the nearest part of Niall there is.

Niall hums and Louis groans. “You two are disgusting.”

“I’ll have none of that sacrilege,” Niall says with a glare. “We’re fucking adorable.”

Zayn does lose, but it’s only because Niall kisses every curl she finishes and Zayn can’t help but giggle every time.

There’s a rustle outside the door, and when Louis looks up, it’s his twin sisters bolting back and forth down the hallway. He laughs when the next thing he sees is Harry chasing after them.

“Oi, Harold!” he calls.

Harry stops in his tracks and turns back to the door a second.

“Oh, hi,” he says, a little breathless and grinning.

“What are you doing?” Louis laughs.

The girls subsequently run straight into Harry’s legs from both sides. Harry grunts and the girls giggle before running into Louis’ room.

They run to Niall first because she’s always been their favorite. It’s her accent, Louis’ sure of it. She gives them both giant hugs and Louis stands up from his place on the floor.

“Did you see our braids?” Phoebe asks, showcasing her hair by framing it with her hands before doing the same for her sister.

Louis makes his way to Harry, “That your handy work, then?”

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, it’s Lou’s. I tried, but they wanted those fancy wrap around ones, and I never could master a French braid.”

Louis chuckles and crosses his arms, resting his hip against the wall. “So why the chase?”

“They told me I did an awful job. I had to make them take it back,” he says, it like it’s the most logical explanation in the world.

“Who’s this then?” Zayn asks and Louis loops around to see his dearest friends and his sisters staring straight in their direction.

“Oh, right, um. Everyone, this is Harry. Harry, these are my best friends.”

“And we’re Daisy and Phoebe, but you know us,” Daisy chimes in. She’s always been the enforcer of equality when it comes to attention.

Harry laughs, “That’s true. I do know you.”

“Girls, why don’t you go put your gowns on, yeah?” says Niall, “I want to see how they look with the braids.”

They both nod quickly before darting out the door.

Niall stands and makes her way to Harry and holds a hand out, “I’m Niall. That’s my girlfriend Zayn. And that’s Liam.”

“We’ve met,” Harry drawls, and waves at Liam.

“Ah, then you know that as welcome as you are here, you’ll likely be fifth wheeling it.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What?”

“Well, Liam and Louis have grown so accustomed to third wheeling me and my extremely beautiful girlfriend, they’ve fallen in love. Uni sweethearts and all, don’t take it personally.”

“Niall, shut the hell up,” Liam laughs from the bed. “She’s just kidding, Harry.”

“Your love story is absolutely _not_ a joke,” Niall proclaims, “Lilo is _real!_ ”

Louis is sort of helpless to do or say anything. He’s usually quick on the draw, and even quicker to tease Liam. Instead his cheeks turn pink and he decides maybe the best defense is to pretend it didn’t happen at all.

“Harold, thank you for spending time with my sisters. These people are my best friends but they’re also the biggest idiots I know. So stick around if you dare.”

“Is your name actually Harold?” Zayn asks, still unbothered to move from the floor.

“It’s just Harry,” he says, smiling.

“Then welcome, just Harry.” She smiles back.

It figures that Harry would fit right in with Louis’ friends. He really should’ve seen it coming. After only a few minutes with Niall, Harry had her laughing so hard her eyeliner was dripping down her face. And of course, anyone who manages to win Niall over that quickly wins Zayn’s affections by default. Louis even caught Liam giving Harry that damned charmed look that Louis knows is likely stuck to his own face.

It happens too well, too seamlessly, and Louis is way too pleased about it. When Harry runs to the bathroom with Liam to help put the finishing touches on his quiff, Zayn and Niall both look directly at Louis at the same time.

“You’re fucking adorable,” says Zayn.

“What?” Louis asks, stupidly.

Niall smirks and rests her head on Zayn’s shoulder with a sigh. “ _He’s_ fucking adorable.”

Louis shrugs but he doesn’t say anything because the only thing he wants to say is _isn’t he though_ and he can’t give Niall the satisfaction.

“Tommo’s got the biggest crush I think I’ve ever seen,” Zayn says in amazement, mostly to Niall.

Niall nods, “Adorable isn’t it? Our little prince is all grown up.”

“Oi, fuck off. It’s not like that.”

Niall rolls her eyes, “Don’t even bother, Lou. We approve. It’s fine.”

Louis huffs, frustrated. “No, really, it’s not. He’s um.” Louis fiddles with his cuff links, “He’s my bodyguard.”

Niall honks a laugh that surprises everyone. Zayn giggles beside her, but Niall laughs so hard Louis thinks her eyes would fall out if she opened them.

“It’s not _that_ funny, Niall.”

Niall’s still laughing anyway, and Louis wants to retract every sentimental thought he’s had about her today.

“Oh Lou,” she sighs, giggling again, “It really is.”

Her giggles get worse when Harry comes back out of the bathroom. He stares in her direction and smirks with a question in his eyes.

“Check out what Harry did!” Liam says from behind him, arms out and spinning slowly for his grand reveal.

Harry chuckles, “All I did was fluff his hair a little bit.”

“And _perfect_ it!” Liam says, poking Harry’s shoulder with a fond smile.

Harry beams like he can’t help it, and when he points it at Louis, he just can’t stop himself from beaming right back.

Niall giggles again, and this time Zayn joins in. Louis bites the smile right off his lips and gives them a warning look.

“What have I missed, then?” Liam asks with a pout. Poor, oblivious Liam.

Niall laughs louder again, “Liam, come with me and Zayn. We’re gonna grab a snack before we put on our dresses.”

“Okay, just don’t walk too fast, I don’t wanna ruin my hair.”

Zayn pulls at the back of his head and earns an exasperated sound from Liam. They leave the room arm in arm with Liam trailing behind as they laugh.

“Your friends are really nice,” Harry says softly. “Thanks for letting me, um, join you.”

Louis nods, a warm smile creeping back on his face “‘Course. Didn’t expect you to hang out with my sisters all day.”

“I wouldn’t have minded. Like, you don’t see them often. I get it if you want me to back off a little.”

Louis smiles, soft and fond. “They’re half in love with you now. Taking you away would just be cruel.”

“Yeah, that Liam bloke is friendly,” Harry smirks. “Is Niall really sure he’s that taken with you?”

Louis laughs loudly.

“What? It’s not like I have an in with Zayn. She’s clearly taken.”

Louis clutches his stomach and collects himself before grabbing his suit and unzipping it from it’s casing.

“I’m going to go get dressed and pretend you didn’t just ask that. You looking for work somewhere else?”

“Never,” Harry smiles, “but I should probably get dressed myself.”

Louis smiles back. “Yeah, you should.”

They stand there. They smile. In some distant part of his mind, he wants to laugh at how ridiculous this might look, but Louis just can’t make himself look away.

Just before Louis goes to turn around, Harry says, “We’re both kidding, right? I’m pretty happy where I am. No job hunt for me.”

Louis’ smile grows wider. He rolls his eyes but it’s so much more endeared than he intended.

“I’m gonna go change now,” he laughs.

He hears his friends in the hall and he jumps a little. As a quick escape, he goes to change into his suit.

“See you in a bit, Harry,” he calls, before rushing into his bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

He hangs his suit on the shower curtain rod and grips the counter. He can’t quite make himself look up at his own reflection, still trying so hard to bite back the smile that’s taken residence on his face. He feels his insides buzzing and his stomach twisting and his cheeks actually hurt from his wide grin.

“Get it together, Tommo. He’s just a set of dimples,” he mutters to himself.

He thinks back to Zayn’s words, just a few moments ago, and she’s right. This might even be the biggest crush Louis’ ever had. He’s got it _bad_ and his stomach dips again just at the thought.

“Hey, Lou! Hurry up in there! I’ve got to pee like a motherfucker!”

“Niall, there’s like seven bathrooms on this floor!”

“Doesn’t matter!” she laughs. “Besides, Liam misses you! Don’t take long!”

Louis grins again, massaging his own jaw.

Then he supposes that if the only pain in his life came from smiling and laughing too often, he’d count himself incredibly lucky.

 

When Louis makes his way down to the ballroom, he can hear the hum of conversation almost as clearly as he can feel the music pulsing under his feet. As they gather by the door, Zayn takes his arm. Niall pouts, and Zayn kisses her cheek, but still reaches and intertwines her fingers with Louis. Louis smiles and they walk wordlessly down the hall. Liam keeps pulling at Niall’s earlobe, and Niall yelps, but they both giggle a little louder every time.

Just before they reach the entrance, Zayn says, “Have I told you I’m proud of you today?”

Louis shakes his head.

“Well, I am. Very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Z,” he answers quietly.

He feels a pair of soft hands on his shoulders, and he turns to face Niall and Liam.

“I’m so glad you guys are here. It’s such a relief, honestly.”

They all smile and Zayn squeezes his hand.

“You’re just nervous to see Harry in a suit,” Niall teases.

Liam laughs loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“I take it back,” Louis says, “I hate you. Get out. Only Zayn can stay.”

Niall keeps laughing and pulls Louis in by his middle for a tight hug.

When they open the double doors, Louis can feel the heads turning, all eyes on him and his friends. He had imagined this moment, and he knew it couldn’t be avoided. He sees his mother at the other end of a large table towards the front of the ball room in a beautiful gown. They decided to forego the throne for this particular event, so she’s seated in a regular chair leaning forward in her giant skirt, speaking with a small child.

He smiles, takes a deep breath, and moves forward. They can stare. They can whisper. Today isn’t about him anyway.

The music bumps loud enough that Louis can feel it in his chest--or maybe his heart is beating that hard. As soon as Louis takes a few steps to the side and toward his table, people return to their previous conversations. Louis likes to believe they’re discussing the beautiful curtains and lights and lavender centerpieces. His mother and the staff have really outdone themselves.  
But of all the beautiful sights in the room, the one that catches his breath is Harry.

His hair is swept back on his head like always, but it looks softer now. Even sitting down, Louis can tell his blue suit fits him _very_ well, and frankly he’s already distracted.

He’s sitting at Louis’ table of course, probably waiting for him since he’s on duty for the duration of the ball. Phoebe is beside him and they’re talking very seriously. Harry’s brows are furrowed as he concentrates on whatever it is Phoebe is telling him. His big hands rest on her small shoulders, as she grips his forearms.

Zayn pokes Louis’ side then, and Louis hiccups.

“You were staring.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters as Zayn giggles.

Harry sees Louis then, and his eyes get big for a moment before he stands up. Louis likes to think that Harry is just as enamored with his fitted grey suit as he is with the gorgeous suit Harry is wearing.

His suit is very well fitted, his tie brings out his eyes, and before Louis knows his eyes are drawn straight to those pink, lush lips. Harry pulls a chair out for Louis and asks if he’d like to have a seat.

Louis takes a seat and tries very hard not to sigh loudly. He desperately needs to put on a convincing poker face.

“Louis,” Phoebe whines, “will you tell Harry he can dance with me?”

“That what you’re chatting about over here?” Louis smirks.

“He says he’s working so he can’t dance. I told him you wouldn’t care but he doesn’t believe me.”

Louis glances at Harry and sees his pink tinged cheeks, smiling apologetically.

“I’m sure he can squeeze in a dance with you sometime tonight, Phoebs. Just not right now, okay?”

She huffs, and Louis laughs.

Niall calls Phoebe over and Louis watches as she fusses with Phoebe’s braids, re-adjusting pins and such.

“Sorry about that,” Harry says.

“For what?” Louis asks.

“I don’t want you to think I planned on ditching anytime soon.”

“If I thought you were ditching, I wouldn’t get the idea from my sister asking you to dance with her,” Louis chuckles.

Harry smiles, “I know, I just. I know my place.”

Louis frowns, “How do you mean?”

“I work here. And like, being friends with your family is great, but I’m here for you first.”

“Well. I appreciate that, obviously. But I want you to have fun, please.”

“I’ll have plenty fun,” Harry grins. “You’re plenty fun.”

Louis’ cheeks burn at that and honestly this is so _stupid_. Harry is being perfectly professional. He doesn’t mean anything by that. He can’t mean anything by that.

“Well, you’ll have to dance with Phoebe sometime or she’ll never forgive me,” Louis chuckles. “And, truthfully...I only said no because I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

_Wow that sounds loaded,_ Louis thinks. _That is loaded. Shit._

“I just mean, ‘cause there’s so many… people. And I’m not used—“

Harry nods, “Of course. Yeah. I know that.”

“I just feel safer with you here.”

Harry stops nodding and smiles. Louis smiles back. On instinct he reaches out, he grabs Harry’s hand and squeezes. Harry smiles, biting at his bottom lip.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” he says.

There’s a plate set on Louis’ other side and he quickly turns and faces the rest of the table. He really needs to get this tunnel vision under control. That’s next to impossible when Harry still hasn’t let go of his hand. Liam is smirking at him from across the table.

_Fuck it_ , Louis thinks, and he intertwines their fingers, resting their palms together on Harry’s leg. He feels Harry give a gentle squeeze, and Louis sits back. Liam will have a hay day if he knows what’s going on. But for right now, what does it matter? Harry’s there to protect him after all. This is fine.

They eat, they drink, and all in all, the ball is an outstanding success. Most of the adults are tipsy and dancing with their children or talking with others at their tables. The majority of the kids are dancing in a big circle on the floor. The decorations are perfect, the music is upbeat, and the food is fantastic.

Zayn keeps throwing cheese cubes across the table for Liam to catch in his mouth, and Niall is giggling incessantly about it. Niall teases and teases Harry for not drinking, but Louis understands. They share a private smile about it, and Louis just drinks Harry’s for him.

At this point, his friends are well past tipsy. Zayn and Niall have moved on from throwing food to flirting relentlessly. Louis can tell their mood is changing when she sees Niall grabbing at Zayn’s dress and tugging.

“Hey, Ni?” Louis asks, a warning tone in his voice.

She hums, but doesn’t take her eyes off Zayn.

“If you two go dance, think you’ll be able to keep it G-rated?”

Zayn answers for the both of them. “Not likely.”

“Hey, ladies?” Harry asks.

Niall looks up then and smiles, “Yes?”

“How long have you two been together anyway?”

Niall grins wide. “Forever.”

“How’d you meet, then?”

Liam groans. “Why’d you go there, Harry? Now they’ll never shut up.”

Niall gives Liam a pointed stare before smiling at Harry. “We met at boarding school. Same place we met these buggers. I’ll tell you the tale of my wooing sometime.”

“The climactic bit is that Liam had a crush on Zayn and walked in on them kissing under the bleachers during a footie game.” Louis says it quickly before anyone can stop him. Liam squawks and Harry and Niall laugh while Zayn rolls her eyes with no real malice.

“Liam and I recovered quickly. There was no real drama.”

“Zayn didn’t even know Liam liked her until weeks after,” Louis rolls his eyes. “And Niall wore Zayn on her arm like the trophy of the year.”

“My woman is worth much more than a trophy, thank you.”

“Your woman can speak for herself, thanks.”

Zayn gives Niall a look before receiving a peck on the cheek.

“It all worked out anyway,” Zayn says with a shrug. “Louis needed a platonic boyfriend in our group and Niall would’ve been shit at that.”

“True, Lou was proper miserable for a while,” Liam sighs. “Spent the vast majority of his time with lesbians during his proper sexuality crisis.”

Louis’ face is strained as he wills his friends to please shut up with several shakes of his head, but Harry doesn’t even look amused. His lips turn down and he feels a hand squeeze his knee.

“Were you lonely?”

Louis shrugs, “A little.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says with a pout. Louis is amused, but he can feel his cheeks warming--probably because he can tell that Harry’s not kidding.

“It’s really okay. Had to happen sometime.”

He glances back at the rest of the table and sees all three of his friends staring straight at them. Niall’s got her elbows on the table, face cradled in her hands. Zayn smirks as she plays with her own hair.

Harry coughs a little and returns to his previous line of questioning. “So what year then? How long have you been together?”

“Four wonderful years. We made it official our second to last year.”

“What’s the secret then? To making it this long?”

“I just don’t let her get bored,” Zayn shrugs.

Niall giggles, “She seems sluggish, but this one’s got incredible drive.”

Harry chuckles, but his cheeks fade to that precious pink color. Louis smiles softly. “Wanna go find my sister for that dance now?”

“Sure!” Harry says, sounding only a little too enthused. Louis grins and stands, reaching for Harry’s hand.

They make their way to the dance floor. “Sorry about them,” Louis sighs. “They can be a little shameless.”

“No, they’re great,” Harry dimples. “Honest.”

“I get it, though,” Louis shrugs. “It feels like you’re always intruding on something with them.”

Harry nods, smiling sheepishly.

“You having fun?” Louis smirks, “I haven’t seen you break out those angry birds yet.”

Harry barks a laugh. “No need. Plenty entertained.”

“Good,” Louis says, a little relieved. He surveys the crowd wondering where his sisters might be hiding. When he looks back to Harry he wonders if _maybe_ he might get away with a dance himself. It could be totally weird, but the sparkle in Harry’s eyes makes him wonder if it might turn out just fine.

“Hey, um. Would it be weird if I asked you to dance? With me?”

Harry shrugs, “Not at all. I’d love to.”

Louis smirks and pulls him deeper into the crowd. When they find the life of the party, of course it’s a ton of the youngest guests -- his favorite being a couple little friends, gripping each other’s hands as they approach him.

Louis leans down, “Can I help you? Would you like to dance?”

The little girl smiles shyly, and says, “Can my friend have a hug?”  
Louis looks at the little boy at her side and smiles softly. He looks afraid but Louis crouches down lower, releasing Harry’s hand.

“You want a hug?”

His eyes are trained to the floor. He looks adorable in his little tux, and Louis melts when he looks up at him and nods.

“You know what? I _love_ a good hug. So bring it in.” He opens his arms wide, and the little boy’s smile nearly rivals the span of his arms. He leaps and Louis hugs him tight. When the little boy lets him go, he’s still smiling. So is his little friend, and Louis asks if she’d like one too. She nods and he pulls them both in with each arm, swaying a little.

“Will you dance with us?” asks the little boy.

Louis beams. “I’d love to! Can my friend Harry join?”

They look up at a seemingly dazed Harry. He smiles and waves when he registers their stares.

Before they know it, they’ve got kids on each leg, and two more gripping each hand. They laugh and they dance and share many a glance. Louis catches Harry winking at one of the little girls, and in turn he winks at Harry.

Eventually there’s a poke at Harry’s arm, and he’s whisked away by Phoebe as expected. He tries to ask Louis if he’s okay on his own first, but Phoebe just yells that they’ll be back and doesn’t give Harry much choice. Louis laughs and waves as they disappear into the crowd.

He dances with the kids a little longer, Liam comes to join in for a bit. Truthfully, it’s the most fun Louis’ had in a long time. And he hates to do it, but he could really use some water and a sit. Liam teases him when he begs off, but Louis just laughs.

“I’ll see you over there once you’ve been dancing as long as me.”

Niall appears and taps Liam’s shoulder so he’ll turn around. They hug like they’ve been separated for weeks, not minutes. Louis smiles fondly and turns around to find a drink and a seat. He wonders for a moment where his mum has gone.

He walks out and into a different crowd of adults mingling, some still sipping at wine. He’s offered a few hands to shake and some thanks for throwing the bash. It’s almost enough to make Louis forget the way these people were speaking about him only a couple weeks ago. That is, until he sees a familiar face approaching him.

It’s Ed Walsh, the owner of the tea shop that Louis frequented without company before the incident. He hasn’t been shy about shunning Louis since his coming out, and Louis is unsure why he would choose now to speak to him. Nervously, he scans the crowd for a familiar face. One in particular, but any that’s not Ed’s will do.

“Your Highness,” Ed says, loudly. Louis knows he can’t run now.

He reaches out a hand and shakes Mr. Walsh’s hand. “Sir. Enjoying the ball, then?”

He nods. “Yes, yes, it’s a wonderful event. Congratulations to you.”

“Thank you.”

They nod at each other then, and Louis thinks that’s that, but when he pulls his hand back, Ed grips him a tighter.

He gives a warning look to the man, but his look remains stern, turning colder.

“Your Highness, may I say something.”

“Release me and I’ll consider it.”

He smirks. “I know what you’re doing.”

“How do you mean?”

“I know you think this ball, making nice with the country’s children, will help you. Will make your public image that of the nice guy you’ve always wanted us to believe you are.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you aren’t fooling anyone.”

Louis feels a hand on his shoulder, and Mr. Walsh releases Louis’ hand.

“Gentlemen?” Harry asks. “Everything alright over here?”

“Yeah,” Louis says. His voice is pitched higher than he’d meant. Everything is clearly not alright.

“Who is this then?”

“Er, Mr. Walsh this is Harry. Harry, this is Mr. Walsh, the owner of the tea shop down the road.”

“I remember,” Harry says, his stern voice is strong and unwavering.

“Well then. I’ll leave you to your night.” Mr. Walsh stares the two of them down. “But if I might, Your Highness. I know I speak on behalf of the majority in this country when I say, in the future, stay away from our children.”

Louis swallows. “And why should I do that?”

“Don’t want to take any risks. I’m sure you understand.”

“Actually, I don’t.” Louis says, he can feel his throat tightening, and his fists clench.

“Don’t be daft, Your Highness.”

“I think you should do as you said a moment ago, and leave the Prince to his night.” Harry says suddenly. Louis had almost forgotten he was there, but he feels awash with relief when he speaks.

“What? Consider this your first dose of civilian feedback. Too much for you, young Prince?”

Harry steps forward, into Mr. Walsh’s space. “Sir, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away right now.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, his cold gaze never leaving Louis’ face. “Your reign will be a short one.”

Louis’ body goes stiff. He’s heard of Kings that sleep with weapons under their pillow and never thought he’d have to be one. And he knows, someone like Walsh doesn’t have the guts to try anything, not in front of all these people. But there are a lot of things Louis wishes he could spit back at him. Unfortunately, his stunned brain is doing a better job of holding his tongue than he does.

And only a second later, he sees Mr. Walsh fall backwards as a hard fist meets his face.

Louis stands aghast at the turn of events. He hears a few audible gasps around them, but doesn’t register much of anything besides a very angry Harry scowling in the direction of Mr. Walsh, and breathing like a bull ready to go in for the kill. The next thing he sees is a red-faced Mr. Walsh cradling his nose in his hands. There are words said, but Louis isn’t around to hear them. There’s a firm grasp on his arm pulling him in the opposite direction. Louis comes to his senses and follows easily, as he and Harry quicken their pace to escape the scene.

They run, and once they make it to the hall, Harry stops. He turns and grips Louis’ shoulders.“I am _so_ sorry.”

Louis stares at him, unsure of how to process any of what’s just happened. All he really knows is that Harry’s eyes are wild and he’s touching him and it’s incredibly overwhelming. Harry looks nearly as terrified as Louis feels, and something about it is actually hilarious. Louis lets out a loud laugh laced with hysteria.

“Louis, it’s not funny,” Harry snaps. “Honestly that was insane. I’ve never hit someone before.”

Louis’ eyes widen at the admission as the rest of his face falls into some embarrassing awed expression. Harry is still breathing heavily and he looks like he might have some kind of meltdown soon and Louis is still so shocked he feels like he might not be far behind.

“We have to go,” he says very seriously.

Harry nods, and takes his hands off of Louis’ shoulders. “Let’s go.”

When they hear the ballroom double doors start to creak open, they bolt side by side down the hall. Louis doesn’t want to guide anyone straight to his room and he doesn’t want to pick anyone else’s so he just turns down a different hallway. He stops abruptly at the first door he remembers to be a closet and pulls Harry in behind him. He shuts the door and tries to be quiet so it doesn’t draw any attention, but locks it anyway just to be safe.

Harry leans against the wall opposite the door and bends down, placing his hands on his knees and catching his breath. Louis isn’t much better off, breathing heavily with his hand still on the door handle.

“Are you okay?” he asks Harry several moments later.

Harry nods. “Are you?”

He breathes a yes. Louis can feel Harry standing closer than he’d been, but he can’t quite see him. He lets his eyes adjust to the dark closet before looking up, only to meet Harry’s eyes.

They stare for a moment, and Louis realizes that for the first time since he’s met Harry, they are well and truly alone.

Harry exhales, taking a tentative step further into Louis’ space. Louis places a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Have you _really_ never punched anyone before?”

Harry’s stare is intense as he shakes his head. “I’ve never actually had to.”

“Thank you,” Louis whispers as Harry moves even closer. Louis thinks he might be going in for a friendly hug. He doesn’t move, though, just stands there, invading his space the way he had that night on the rooftop.

He feels Harry’s hand on his arm, rubbing up and down reassuringly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Louis wants to nod, but he wants to scream, and he also just wants to make sure Harry stays right the fuck here. And that’s the last coherent thought he has before finally launching his lips into Harry’s.

In the back of Louis’ mind, he imagined Harry pushing him off at this point. He imagined Harry asking what the hell was wrong with him, telling him that he definitely shouldn’t just start kissing people when he’s overwhelmed.

Instead, Harry cups his face in his hands and kisses back. Louis places his hands on Harry’s hips and pulls him closer. He’s completely caged between Harry’s arms with his back against the door and it feels like he’s completely surrounded by Harry. Louis kisses him like he’ll never get the chance again. And that may be so.

Harry’s hands move down Louis’ face and briefly to his neck and shoulders, before he rubs up and down Louis’ arms gently. Louis hums quietly and links his own wrists at Harry’s lower back, pulling him forward. Harry begins to pull away, but Louis follows. He tries his very best to keep from detaching their lips at all, but he’s soon forced to move his lips to Harry’s neck. Harry sighs and tries to speak, but once he’s stopped stepping backwards, Louis doesn’t waste any time moving back to Harry’s mouth.

Louis combs Harry’s hair back on his head with his fingers and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, never stopping, never losing urgency until Harry huffs a little and pulls back.

“Lou,” he whispers.

Louis whines a little and sets his forehead against Harry’s heaving chest.

“This isn’t… okay, is it?” he asks, softly. Louis lifts his head to look at Harry, whose fingertips just barely graze the bottom of Louis’ chin.

“Does it matter?”

“Consent matters.”

Louis huffs and closes the distance between their lips again. “How’s that for consent, dumbass.”

Harry doesn’t ask again, just twists his arms around Louis’ middle and grips him tighter for the longest kiss of Louis’ life. He thinks once or twice about coming up for air, but Harry has this way with his _tongue_ and it’s so good that Louis decides that having Harry like this is better than breathing.

Louis tips his face up when he feels Harry pull back, and can’t help the small noise he makes at the loss of contact. Is this separation anxiety? Can lips feel that?

“Lou, are you _sure_ this is okay?”

“My lips miss you, so yes, this is perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Harry chuckles, small and nervous. “I just…” Louis cuts him off by sucking softly at his neck and budging his hips up slightly. Harry’s breath hitches, surprised, but he finishes the damn sentence anyway. “I work for you.”

“You work for my mum, it’s different.”

“Yeah, but I guard you…” Harry says, slowly—distracted, but not distracted _enough_. “I’m paid to protect you.”

Louis lifts his head and cups Harry’s face in his hands and rubs his cheek with his thumb, “I know. It’s fucking hot.”

Harry smiles, and Louis can feel his dimples forming under his thumbs and there is literally nothing in this world so endearing as Harry Styles.

“Really?”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Are you fucking kidding me? _Yes_. Now will you just kiss me, please?”

Harry does and it’s just enough to make them both forget their surroundings. As far as Louis is concerned, the whole world is made of Harry’s curls lacing his fingers, Harry’s lips plush against his, Harry’s arms strong and wrapped around his waist, and then his hands holding tightly at Louis’ hips. Even if the world dared to exist around them, Louis would just tell it to fuck off before he could think the better of it.

Louis nips at Harry’s bottom lip with his teeth and giggles when Harry makes a surprised sound.

They kiss like that for a while, arms dangling off each other and soft hums as their lips move languidly where they stand, still leaning against the closet door. Harry’s standing so close that when Louis lightly grazes Harry with his crotch he thinks he can feel Harry sporting a semi of his own. Perhaps that’s what it took for Louis to realize that there is actually a world around them, and as much as he’d really like for it to fuck off, he has to be more careful than this.

Louis hums high and urgent and pulls away, to find a surprised and dazed Harry looking down at him. His hair is a mess from where Louis’ been playing with it.

“Can we go to my room?” Louis asks. “Just. We have to be subtle.”

Harry takes a deep breath and snuffles a moment before pushing his hair back, “Do you think anyone’s out there?”

“Might be. So we just. There’s nothing to see, right? Just a couple mates? I mean. Well, no. A prince and his bodyguard? We were hiding in here because of what happened, so it’s fine. Totally justifiable.”

Harry smirks. “You’re adorable when you’re frazzled, you know.”

“You’re not helping!” Louis hisses at him.

“Sorry,” Harry chuckles, “Yes. We were just. Hiding from the guy I hit.”

“Fuck, I can’t believe you hit him,” Louis says, and kisses Harry again just because he can.

Harry smiles, ruining the kiss, though the warmth pooling in Louis’ chest tells him otherwise.

“Okay,” Louis says, grinning. “Okay. Here’s our alibi. We were just hiding. Having a laugh. It’s too dangerous to go downstairs so we decided to turn in early or summat. That’s believable, right?”

Harry nods, looking very serious, “Of course. Totally believable.”

“Right.” Louis says. “Okay, so then this next part is very important.”

Harry nods, and Louis can feel his eyes fall straight to Harry’s lips.

“We go to turn in early, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, his fingers tightening their hold on Louis’ hips just slightly.

Louis leans into him. “But then. We go to my room. Both of us, yeah?”

Harry nods. “You’re sure?”

Louis kisses him in lieu of a yes and feels his stomach flip when Harry’s hands find and squeeze Louis’ bum. He hums and opens his mouth, deepening their kiss. Harry slides his tongue across Louis’ bottom lip and pulls him in even closer and Louis knows they _really_ need to move right now or all hope of subtlety will be lost.

“ _Shit_ , Harry, focus.” Louis pulls away, breathless. “You can’t _kiss_ me like that if we want to get away with this.”

Harry looks at him like he’s been scolded. His bottom lip is pushed out just a little in a fucking sincere pout. Louis swears this boy is going to be the death of him.

“ _No_ , no, don’t look at me like that. _Please_ kiss me like that, but wait until we get to my room.”

And like that, Harry removes his hands from Louis’ body and salutes.

Louis unlocks the door and turns the doorknob, hoping it’ll keep quiet. He peeks out just the tiniest bit to see a very empty, very quiet hallway. He remembers then that his room is upstairs and they could encounter several not-quiet hallways on the way there.

He sighs, shuts the door again and turns to face Harry.

“How fucked do I look?”

“Not fucked enough,” Harry shrugs.

“But fucked at all?”

“I mean, we’re both hard, so.”

“So _about_ to be fucked then.”

“We can talk about that,” Harry shrugs. “I was just gonna suck you off.”

Louis inhales at that, “That’s, er, I’d love for you to. I just meant—“

Harry looks like he wants to kiss Louis again, and Louis really wants to let him, but they have to get to his room _right_ now.

“Oh, fuck it, let’s just go.”

Louis grabs Harry’s hand and opens the closet door. He tries not to think too much about the irony.

They make their way down the hall. Louis tries to be suave, but Harry lets go of his hand and  pretends to scale the walls. Louis rolls his eyes but he can’t wipe the smile off his face, and Harry’s no better. _God_ he’s so glad none of his friends are around to see this. He feels like he’s experiencing secondhand embarrassment for them.

There are a few people in the kitchen, but Louis and Harry just scurry past the door without being seen. It’s nothing short of a miracle when they see Louis’ bedroom door.

Once they’re inside, Louis shuts the door behind them and Harry crowds him in again. “Where were we?”

Louis smiles. “Right about here, actually.”

Harry kisses him, hands firmly in place on Louis’ back. “Are you sure this is cool?” he asks one last time.

Louis groans. “I thought we were done with that question.”

“I mean, we only left the closet five minutes ago.” Harry giggles at his own joke before regaining his composure. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Louis cackles. “Yes. This is cool. You have my full consent. Have your way with me, please.”

Harry doesn’t seem to need much more encouragement than that. He goes in for one last searing kiss before he moves to do his most diligent work on the crevices of his neck, his hands in Louis’ shirt slowly making their way down his torso before his fingertips brush softly at his waistline. Louis’ mad with need after a few minutes of it, moving his hips forward with each move of Harry’s warm, wet mouth.

He whines a little when Harry holds his hips in place, and Harry looks right into Louis’ eyes.

“Hold your horses, Your Highness.”

Louis shudders as Harry grins and pecks the corner of his mouth.

“Just trust me.”

Louis nods, very seriously, and Harry smirks as he pulls at the hem of Louis’ shirt. Louis helps him take it off, button by button, then reaches for Harry’s. Louis works diligently on it while Harry shrugs off his suit jacket. When Harry pulls him a little closer by the hem of his undershirt, Louis gets dizzy from the sudden onset of Harry’s cologne. He lifts Harry’s undershirt over his head (with little help from Harry) and can’t keep his hands from roaming Harry’s newly bared chest. He thought Harry looked damn good in that suit, but he’ll be damned if he sees anything more beautiful than this. Detailed tattoos over defined abs and a chest that steadily rises and falls quicker every time Louis traces it with his fingertips. He looks up again to find Harry watching him with glazed eyes and a slack jaw.

“What?” Louis asks, quirking a smile. Harry shakes his head in dismissal, but looks no less affected by the steady motion of Louis’ hands, travelling up and down his torso.

Harry barely pauses before his mouth finds Louis’ collarbones and Louis nearly moans as the warm lips on his chest move to his neck, hands grabbing on to his ass.

“Gonna make you feel so good, Lou,” Harry mumbles, his lips resting just below Louis’ ear. Louis leans his shoulders back against the door and moans. It’s devastating when Harry pulls away, but when he pulls at Louis’ undershirt, Louis figures it might be worth it for this second.

Once he’s lifted it over Louis’ head, Harry leaves soft kisses to each side of his pecs. Louis shivers as Harry’s plush lips reverently leave a path all the way down to his trousers, where Harry plays with the button. Louis feels his trousers fall to his ankles as Harry nudges at his thighs with his nose and lips.

He feels fingers at his pants, but pulls the top of Harry’s hair before he can continue. Harry looks up at him from his knees, and _fuck_ it’s so hot. It’s embarrassing how much he wants this.

“You okay?” Harry asks.

Louis nods. “Can you take your trousers off?”

Harry looks like he wants to ask why, and Louis decides to answer. “I just will feel more comfortable if we’re both, um… exposed.”

“Really?” Harry asks, waggling his eyebrows. “You don’t want me to serve you? I’m _very_ good.”  
Louis throws his head back as he laughs. “None of that, no. Equality is nice. Do you mind?”

Harry doesn’t hesitate. He stands up and pulls his own trousers down before bringing his hands back to Louis’ hips, fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

“Mine off first? Or yours?”

Louis smiles and kisses Harry’s cheek. “Yours. Wanna see.”

Harry obliges and Louis nearly groans on sight. “Good thing that’s not going in me tonight.”

Harry dimples and returns to thumbing at Louis’ underwear, falling slowly back down to his knees. “Yeah. It’s a shame you have to walk tomorrow.”

Louis laughs and gently smacks the side of Harry’s head.

“None of that in a minute,” Harry teases. “Your cock’s gonna be in my mouth.”

“Don’t you think you should get to that now? I’ve been very patient.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He pulls Louis’ pants down and lets them fall to his ankles before taking him in his hand. Just the initial contact pushes a sigh from Louis’ lips. Harry pumps a few times before his lips find the tip, and Louis thinks he might lose his mind. He gets lost in each swipe of Harry’s tongue, each harsh suck and each soft exhale when he comes up for air, the heat in his lower belly teasing and twisting.

Harry squeezes suddenly at the base of his cock, and Louis hisses.

“Good?”

Louis’ clenches his fist in Harry’s hair and he nods, eyes still shut tight.

Harry places both hands on Louis’ sides, his fingers squeezing lightly at his arse cheeks, holding him in place as he takes him back in his mouth.

“ _Shit_ , that’s good,” Louis mutters. “Shit, shit, _shit_.”

He’d be bouncing if Harry weren’t holding him in place as he bobs his head.

His orgasm surprises him, like the way his face lights up when he sees Harry in the hallway. Quickly, without his permission, and it’s all Harry’s fault.

He feels a tight squeeze low in his belly seconds before and pulls Harry’s hair a bit, hoping to catch it in time. Harry doesn’t budge, and keeps his mouth on him until Louis’ finished, and swallows. Louis sighs contentedly and slides to the floor, his back still against the door.

“I can’t believe we bothered to leave the closet for you to suck me off against the door anyway.”

Harry grins and falls the rest of the way to the floor. He looks achingly hard, and Louis notices straight away. They sit facing each other for a moment before Louis reaches out, leaning over his folded legs to grip Harry’s dick with one hand.

He rests his face on his free hand as he strokes playfully with his right.

“Nice dick you got here,” he says casually as he rubs at the head.

Harry grins, trying to seem unaffected. “Thanks. It was a gift.”

Louis can’t help but laugh. He pulls his palm away a moment to lick it. When he reaches out to touch again, he looks up and finds Harry’s eyes fixed on him.

“This okay?” Louis asks, “Or do you want me to suck you too?”

Harry shakes his head. “This is great.”

Louis smiles and begins lengthening his strokes. If Harry will settle for a hand job, it’ll be the best one Louis can give. Louis adjusts so he’s sitting on his knees, careful to keep his strokes steady and constant as he feels Harry trying to thrust into them. It’s nice, feeling Harry respond so sincerely, but he wants to be _closer_. Louis lets go for a moment and Harry actually whimpers when he does.  
“Here, love,” Louis rasps, inching closer before wrapping his legs around Harry’s torso, his cock sitting hard and defiant between their stomachs.

Harry furrows his brows, but his lips part in a sigh when Louis resumes stroking, and makes a detour straight for Harry’s broad shoulders with his lips. It takes more coordination than Louis thought, but he mostly maintains a steady rhythm as his lips make their way from Harry’s shoulder to his neck to his jaw all the way back to his mouth. Harry kisses back, hungrily, and Louis feels him try to jut upwards into Louis’ hand.

Louis pulls from the kiss, regaining focus in his steady jerking motions.

Harry hums, low, and goes in for another kiss. Louis obliges, but pulls back after a moment to give Harry’s cock his full attention.

His hand’s not so spit-slick anymore, and the jerking becomes rougher, along with Harry’s grunts.

Louis kisses at Harry’s jaw, “Want me to grab some lube?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “I like it. M’close anyway.”

Short breaths become harsher, and make way for a loud groan from Harry’s lips. And just moments later, Louis does one, two, three last full pumps and Harry shoots hot between them.

They’re silent for a few minutes, Louis’ forehead resting against Harry’s heaving chest, only barely avoiding one of the come-sticky areas as Harry grazes Louis’ spine with his hands.

“Fuck,” Louis says, to no one in particular.

Harry laughs. “Fuck, indeed.”

Louis laughs with him.

“Wanna go shower?” Louis eventually asks.

Harry nods, and hand in hand, they walk into Louis’ en suite.

 

Later, in Louis’ bed, Louis marvels at how good Harry smells while it gets harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go across the hall?”

Louis nods slowly. “Want you here.”

Harry smiles and brings a hand to Louis’ shoulder. He rubs softly, up and down Louis’ arm.

Louis sighs, completely content, and turns to lie on his side, resting his head on Harry’s chest.

“We’re going to have to talk about this.”

“About what?” Louis asks, his words running together as he gets closer and closer to sleep. “We’re two consenting adults that gave each other some great orgasms. Nothing to talk about.”

Harry shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

Louis sighs. “Can it wait till the morning?”

Either Harry doesn’t answer, or Louis falls asleep before he can hear it.

When Louis wakes up, he thinks it’s late. The sun is streaming in through the gap where his curtains don’t quite meet. It feels almost like waking up from an afternoon nap. Only this time, there’s someone in bed with him, and Louis feels like he’s slept a full eight hours. Harry’s still asleep, snoring quietly beside him. He scoots closer to him on the bed and thinks about whether or not it’s safe to kiss him. He doesn’t think Harry would mind, so much as Louis’ afraid his bedroom door will open for anyone to find them.

Before he gets the chance, Harry stirs beside him, stretching his limbs and humming, soft and sleepy. Louis doesn’t restrain himself. He pulls Harry closer and kisses his cheek until he feels a dimple underneath.

“You’re really fucking cute,” Louis says. “Like, honestly. The fucking cutest.”

Harry chuckles and pulls Louis in by his waist for a cuddle.

They’re very quiet for several minutes. Louis wonders if he should detach himself—if he should put space between them in case Niall walks in. The girl has never understood boundaries. But Harry starts playing with the wispy hairs at the base of Louis’ neck, and he just doesn’t really care anymore. It’ll look suggestive no matter what position they’re in, won’t it?

“You’re just as cuddly as I thought you’d be.”

Louis sits up. “What does that mean?”

Harry laughs. “I just got the vibe that you were a really cuddly person. Even if you didn’t show it half the time.”

“I am _the_ most cuddly, but no one ever guesses so.”

“You’re like a little yippy lap dog. You bark and make a mess but at the end of the day you’re happy to sit in my lap and let me rub your belly.”

Louis squints at him, like it’ll make him seem more intimidating, but Harry just beams, and he knows he’s lost.

“Yeah, whatever. I like cuddling.”

“Me too,” Harry says, resuming his soft touches at the back of Louis’ neck. “So. Last night.”

Louis hums.

“Is last night still okay? Like. Are we okay?”

Louis chuckles. “I wouldn’t be practically lying on top of you if we weren’t, love.”

“I just want...” Harry sighs. “I think this might be more complicated than you think it is. And I want to give you an out.”

“An out?”

Harry nods. “You don’t ever have to do this again. I’ll be totally professional and forget about it if you need me to. If you want.”

Louis sits up and crosses his legs beneath him. Harry stays there, lying on his back, but avoiding Louis’ eyes. Louis reaches out and traces a finger over the butterfly on Harry’s stomach.

“Do _you_ want to forget? Do _you_ want an out?”

Harry looks up at him, and he looks sad. Louis doesn’t ever want to see that look again.

“Because I don’t want one. But of course, I’ll respect if you do. We can talk boundaries and stuff if you want. I already did a piss poor job of talking myself out of wanting you before, and that will be even harder now, but I don’t want you to be out of a job.”

“You wanted me before?” Harry asks, reaching for a soft hold on Louis’ hand.

Louis smiles. “God, yeah. It was stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Harry says, endearment in his voice. “I wanted you too. You drove me mad, I couldn’t figure you out.”

Harry sits up, and Louis kisses his forehead.

“So what are we doing, then?” Harry asks, cautiously. “I mean, like… if neither of us want an out. Then what’s happening here.”

“That was a roundabout way of asking ‘what are we’?” Louis grins.

Harry shrugs with a warm smile. “Then what are we?”

Louis sighs, placing  both hands on Harry’s thighs. “I’ll be whatever you want, to be honest. But maybe… it should be between us for a while? Like. Not a secret, but private.”

“Is there anyone you think should know?”

“I think Niall and Zayn and Liam already do, so we don’t really need to tell them. We can just… let them think they know, I guess? Like. I just don’t really want to confirm anything with anyone but you.”

“Should your mum know?”

Louis sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t want anyone else to be my bodyguard.”

“I don’t either,” Harry nods.

“So maybe if we keep it as much a secret as we can… then you can be both.”

“The Prince and his Bodyguard, right?” Harry grins and Louis matches it.

“Sounds great to me.” He shrugs to mask how pleased he is, but with his face splitting in half, he’s sure it’s not so convincing.

Harry nods and kisses Louis, and it’s warm and it’s soft but it’s firm and sure. It feels like a promise.

After a brief discussion, they decide Harry should go downstairs first. It’s not quite as late as Louis thought when he woke up, so he’s sure a few people are still at breakfast. He almost asks Harry to just bring something up to him. He’s not sure he can keep the smile off his face. Harry shakes his head and says he’ll see him in a few.

One would think Harry just left the country and not Louis’ room. When the door shuts behind him, Louis pouts. He walks back to his bed and falls on his back in a huffs. They agreed on ten minutes. Enough to give Harry time to establish what they’re saying happened before Louis goes down there and makes Harry forget his name and fucks it all up. That’s what Harry had said, anyway.

He knows he’s right, but he misses him already, and maybe he should’ve volunteered to go first anyway. He’s the one whose stomach is growling. He waits as patiently as he’s able, and when ten minutes have passed, he finds himself darting to the door on the dot.

He slows down once he gets to the hall.

_Act natural, Tommo,_ he coaches himself. _There’s nothing to see. You were nearly attacked again last night and you’re tired and scared._

It’s like pumping himself up the way he did in school before going on stage. Only it’s harder because on stage he usually had to pretend he had feelings for girls, and now he has to actually turn his feelings off. Harry-feelings specifically.

When he makes his entrance, he sees everyone at the table. Literally _everyone_. His mother, his sisters, Niall, Zayn, Liam, and of course, Harry.

Harry sends him a sad smile, and Louis frowns as he makes his way to the only empty seat beside him. When he sits down, Harry’s hand finds his thigh, and with the way everyone’s looking at him, Louis’ extremely grateful for it—even if it makes it harder not to beam openly at him.

It’s very quiet. Even Niall is very quiet, and his sisters are very quiet, and when Louis looks around the table, he finds that most of them seem to be waiting on him.

“Morning,” he says, neutrally. Still nothing. “Great party, yeah? Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.”

And now everyone’s frowning. Why is everyone frowning? It’s weird and sad and Louis doesn’t like it. He wants to go back to his room with Harry.

Liam coughs a little, and it’s him that breaks the silence.

“Lou, have you been anywhere online this morning?”

“No?” Louis accepts the plate set in front of him. “My phone is somewhere in my room I haven’t looked at it since yesterday.”

“Good, um,” Liam says, “you should probably stay away from it for a while.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on, then? What did I miss?”

“Louis, love, there was a bit of an incident last night,” says Johannah, from the head of the table.

“I know. Have you thanked Harry yet?” Louis says, his words coated in his own annoyance. “That guy threatened my life in one sentence.”

Johannah frowns. “Of course, yes, I know. But after you left. There was. Well, something else.”

“Something else?”

“It would seem that Mr. Walsh has been talking to a lot of people in town.” His mother seems unwell, and the way Harry is gripping at Louis’ thigh paired with how everyone else keeps looking at him is telling him to brace for the worst.

“About what?”

There’s a long silence before she comes out with it. “There’s a group of people in our town who think that you should be abdicated.”

“Abdicated? What, like dethroned or summat?”

“Yes,” she says. Her demeanor is strong, but Louis can see she’s fighting back a few tears. “They’ve said some truly horrible things about our family. Things that are not only untrue, but founded in utter ignorance and bigotry.”

The solemn silence around the table is telling. It makes Louis want to know what they said. It can’t be any worse than what was said of him already.

“So what now?”

“We wait,” Johannah says. “We keep a low profile and wait for the chatter to go down. You’re not to leave the palace limits for the time being. And then we’ll build from there.”

“Build what?”

“A new relationship. Seeing as our current relationship has been tarnished.”

Louis feels a sharp pain in his chest and he looks down at his food. In the corner of his eye, he sees Harry’s hand, palm open on his thigh. Louis grabs it and holds tight.

When he looks back up and sees his mother, staring dazed at her plate, he can’t help but feel a heavy twinge of guilt in his head and heart. He knows this is his fault.

House arrest is easier the second time. It’s got more than a little to do with the fact that Harry basically lives at Louis’ side, and vice versa. His mother had offered Harry an opportunity to go home to see his family while they were to remain within the palace limits. Harry made some excuse of not wanting to make a spectacle of himself by leaving, but Louis knew it was for his sake. It’s lumped in with the rest of the things that are his fault.

It shouldn’t hurt, but every time Harry reassures him he’d rather be with Louis anyway, he just feels worse for creating the whole situation at all. Harry feels obligated to stay by his side, his mum is forlorn and hurt by whatever the people have said, his own sisters can’t even play outside -- and it’s all because Louis decided to tell the world about a piece of him. He thinks back to all the times Zayn or Niall or Liam told him how proud they were of him, and he thinks about when Harry called him an inspiration, and he feels even worse because he just can’t see it. He can’t see the good in all the difficulties his honesty created.

The only good thing in his life right now is Harry’s firm grip around his waist and steady breathing when they curl up at the end of the day and watch some shitty reality TV. It’s late, and Louis wonders why he’s not tired. The way Harry had fucked him earlier should have worn him right out, but even with Harry snoozing underneath him, his mind’s just too busy for sleep.

His phone is still sitting in a drawer somewhere. Harry had confiscated it for his mother to hide. He knows it’s probably for the better, but that hasn’t stopped it from also being the reason he can’t relax. He doesn’t know how to work through the anger and the hurt and frustration when he doesn’t even know what the world is saying. He can imagine, surely -- but given the dejected way his mother had looked,  and her reference to the “disgrace” of the entire family, Louis has to wonder if it went far beyond a few homophobic pricks stating their case against him.

He sighs and reaches for the remote. Harry’s been asleep at least an hour now, and Louis doesn’t really feel like watching Real Housewives alone.  He flips through the channels quickly until he passes his own face. He goes back a few channels until he finds it again. Once it’s on, he turns the volume down just slightly so as not to wake Harry. He kisses the top of his head and tunes in to listen to the news anchor.

“The effort to abdicate Prince Louis Tomlinson has spread like wildfire since an unprecedented rise in tensions Friday night. While beloved, the Tomlinson family has always been a cause for concern for some Greydonians . However, many are still left asking: why? I’m Lacey Pickett, and in this special edition of the 11 o’clock news, I set out to find our answer.”

Louis knows he should switch it. This isn’t something he can make himself un-see or hear. It’s exactly why the people closest to him are going to such lengths to protect him.

But before he can even entertain the idea of skipping it, there’s footage of a rally. Lacey explains the rally took place at six o’clock today outside of the palace. The group is small, but so is their town, and Louis finds himself wondering if the number of people that weren’t there is anywhere near the amount of people that were.

The footage cuts to Ed Walsh being interviewed. His nose is definitely broken and Louis almost wants to laugh. He gives Harry a loving pat instead and smiles when Harry shuffles a little closer.

“He’s a liar,” Mr. Walsh says, his face going red. “He’s not the man he’s always wanted us to believe. And that’s the whole point. It is high time we get a real man on that throne, a _King_ , for god’s sake. Instead, we’ll get him. A confused boy who has other people fight his battles for him.”

“Are you saying you think the Queen has ruled poorly, Mr. Walsh?”

“I’m saying she’s done the best she can for what she is. We need a man, and I’m not about to wait until the Prince dies to get one. Even so, it’s not like he’ll give us an heir.”

Louis listens and watches, feeling his stomach twist tighter every minute. It’s awful but he can’t make himself look away. It would seem Mr. Walsh wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t the only one who felt this way. There was a “we,” and all of them have something to say about the quality of his family’s leadership and example.

Louis sits and he listens. As a ruler, he knows he can’t dismiss the opinions of his people. As a person, he knows that many of his people are homophobes _and_ misogynists, and Louis wishes it were part of his duty to go in there and punch them himself this time. The rally is long over, and he’s troubled that he wasn’t even aware it happened. He’d been stuck in a blissful Harry bubble, actively avoiding his fears. He hadn’t bothered to look around.

When he thinks back on the day, he realizes something was off. He’d noticed the way the servants were walking the halls quickly and speaking to each other in hushed tones. He’d noticed how quickly Harry had approached him, the urgency with which Harry kissed him. He’d known that Harry was likely distracting him. He hadn’t _known,_ but if he’s honest, he hadn’t wanted to.

The part that hurts the most is what they’ve said about his mum. His mother has worked harder and been more gracious than anyone Louis’ ever known in his life. When his father passed all those years ago, his mother took leadership like a champ. He’d spent long hours with her as a child sitting at her legs and listening to her talk to people.

He remembers seeing the people angry, but he couldn’t tell you why. He only knew that his mother never seemed angry in return -- not then, nor ever since. His mother always understood, always offered a helping hand, always nodded and greeted you like an old friend, even if you’ve come to complain. It made her beloved and respected and everything Louis hopes he can be as a ruler.  To hear so many people discredit all of her greatest qualities only because she’s a woman has him so angry it’s giving him a headache.

He shuts the TV off and huffs in the dark. And he’s surprised when the only piece left of it, the sentence that he keeps hearing, is _it’s not like he’ll give us an heir._

His composure crumbles a little. It’s a thought he’s entertained, a thought he’s always had. A thought he’s even confessed in early hours of the morning long ago with his closest friends. He’s always known that won’t happen. Because even as an honest man, out in the open, he knew that deciding to have children would imply that someone could love him. That he would be able to find someone. And that just never seemed likely. Not in hiding, and not on the throne.

And then there’s Harry—this whole other beautiful, wonderful thing in his life, and the most pleasant surprise. He sniffles a little, and feels the wetness from his eyes start to fall down his cheeks. He understands now. He understands why everyone else wanted so badly to protect him.

He feels a soft hand on his shoulder and sniffles again, wiping at his eyes, trying to push it back in. It’s too late, because Harry sits up and places his arm back around his waist and squeezes. Louis relaxes into it and sets his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Did you find your phone?” Harry murmurs, his voice low in Louis’ ear.

Louis shakes his head, which might seem more like a nuzzle to Harry, so he clarifies, “Saw. On TV.”

Harry hums in response and wraps his other arm around Louis’ front, tying his fingers together at Louis’ hip.

“I’m sorry, Lou.”

“It’s not your fault.”

They’re silent but for the sound of Harry’s sleepy sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Louis shakes his head again, an awkward nuzzle, and takes a shaky breath in.

“Wanna sleep?”

Louis nods, and this time it’ a fully intentional nuzzle. Harry lies back and Louis follows, leaning on him. Before Louis falls asleep, the last thing he thinks is that he’d probably lean on Harry even without a mattress beneath them.

When Louis wakes up it’s to soft whispers and fingers carding through his hair. He hums sleepily and turns to face Harry. He figures if he can just bury himself in Harry, he doesn’t have to face the light of day. He’s too tired to see any flaw in his logic.

He can feel Harry’s deep chuckle before Harry starts tapping his shoulder. He keeps saying Louis’ name, and at first it’s soft and inviting, but soon it’s just annoying, especially paired with incessant poking.

“What?” Louis asks.

“Are you awake?”

“What do you think, genius?”

Harry laughs again, quiet and fond.

“Want to have an adventure?”

Louis is about to remind Harry of their house arrest, but when he lifts his head to speak, he realizes it’s still dark outside. His brows furrow and he huffs a little, sleepy and confused, before he asks, “What time is it?”

Harry smiles as he sits up and reaches for Louis’ hand. “It’s half past four.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “Are you fucking kidding?”

“Nope,” Harry says with a mischievous grin.

“Isn’t this the time you wake up and do your weird yoga thing before you come back to bed?”

Harry nods gleefully.

“Is this you asking me to do your weird yoga thing with you?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’, “This is me asking if you want to have an adventure.”

Louis’ not sure where the hell they’re meant to go this early, but now that he’s sat up and rubbed his eyes, he knows falling back to sleep won’t be an easy feat. He shrugs and says, “Might as well.”

Harry throws the blanket off, and the pair get dressed and bump hips at the bathroom sink while they brush their teeth. Louis pulls at Harry’s hair when he’s not expecting it, and Harry giggles every single time like he’s pulled a lever. Louis’ just about to pull Harry in towards him by the hem of his shirt when Harry reaches for his hand first. He smirks at catching Louis by surprise, and Louis wonders if his heart will ever stop caving in the way it does when Harry squeezes his hand lightly.

They leave Louis’ bedroom, hand in hand, and Harry leads them straight to the front door of the palace.

“You know we can’t leave, right?”

Harry shrugs. “We just can’t face the public. The public won’t be out and about for another couple hours at least.”

There’s this daring smile taking over his face, and Louis can feel his own growing each second.

“And what if someone is lurking about?”

“Well, lucky you! It would seem your dashing bodyguard will be accompanying us.”

Louis grins. “Dashing, huh? You think he’s cute?”

“I think he’s incredibly charming, yes. Great hair.”

Louis smiles, swinging their linked hands between them. “Why didn’t you just invite him on an adventure then?”

“Well, he’s great and all, but between you and me… I think I have a shot with the Prince.”

Louis looks up at Harry’s sparkling eyes and actually giggles.

“Is that so?”

Harry smiles wide, and Louis leans up to kiss him. Not much kissing can ensue, because once his lips meet Harry’s grin-stretched face, Louis can’t stop smiling either. He opts for a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek before letting Harry guide him straight out the palace gates.

The guards smile as Harry sends them a brief salute. “Nothing to see here, gentlemen. The Prince will be safe in my company.”

Louis rolls his eyes and sends them a silent thanks for humoring them. He thinks that one of them might wink, but Louis’ trailing behind Harry so quickly he might’ve just imagined it. They make their way out and onto open roads that lead straight into town, and Harry keeps hold of Louis’ hand the entire time. Louis squeezes gently and Harry looks back to smile at him.

“This okay?”

Louis nods. “Course it is.”

They walk in silence for a while as empty streets become filled with empty shops. There’s one traffic light in town, and it’s weird, watching it turn from green to red and back with no cars around to oblige. He’s never seen the town this way before, so quiet and peaceful, like it’s asleep. And sure, everyone who runs it is, but the poetry isn’t lost on Louis’ fuzzy mind.

He’s caught off guard by the realization that he isn’t as angry as he thought he might be. In other times this week, when he thought about what he’d do if he could leave the palace, he thought that he really wouldn’t want to. It would be hard not to snap at the first person to so much as look at him the wrong way. But instead he feels calm. He feels a little scared, but even that goes to rest when he feels Harry’s hand rest at his lower back.

But maybe unsurprisingly, the most prominent feeling swelling in his chest is hurt. He just feels _hurt_. He’s given his all to be honest, to be noble, and to be everything these people could ask of him… but they’ve rejected him. And they haven’t stopped at that—they’re trying to push him out.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“S’just weird. Being here right now.”

“Kind of nice, right?”

Louis nods. “Yeah, nice. It’s just kind of hard.”

Harry stops walking for a moment and turns to face him. “We can go back if you want. If it’s too much.”

Louis shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s a weird, necessary kind of difficult. Like…I don’t know.”

Harry nods, but he doesn’t say anything—just keeps his fingers intertwined with Louis’ and keeps them walking at a leisurely pace.

“Like, it makes me think of this one time when I was younger. And one of the twins was throwing an absolute fit. I couldn’t tell you which one or why. I just remember telling my mum she was being a bloody brat and that I didn’t want a little sister anymore.”

Harry chuckles at that. “My sister said that about me plenty of times.”

Louis grins. “Glad to know I’m not the only one with a dramatic streak.”

It’s quiet again for a moment, but Louis continues.

“My mum though… she just. When I said that, I remember that she said the hardest part of being a big brother is loving my sisters through everything. I was old enough to know that that didn’t mean giving them a cuddle when one of them hit me,” he laughs, “but I understood that she meant that even if I didn’t like them, I still loved them. And with family that’s not really allowed to change. At least not for something like a toddler having a fit.”

Harry nods, slowly, solemnly, and drags them to a nearby bench. Louis sets his head on Harry’s shoulder. It’s much warmer than the bench beneath him, as is Harry’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Very softly, Harry brings his other hand to Louis’ thigh. He rubs softly with his fingertips, and asks very quietly, “You gonna love ‘em through it, then?”

“I think I have to,” Louis whispers. “Not much different from a toddler having a fit, innit? They just have to grow up and figure it out.”

The air feels heavy but serene, and the bench is still sort of cold, but Harry is solid and warm against him. Louis doesn’t want to love these people. He doesn’t want to explain himself and he doesn’t want to just sit and let them kick him.

“You could talk to them, you know.” Harry says. “Like, its not that you owe them an explanation or that you need to fight for your honor...”

“I’d rather fight for my mum’s.”

Harry nods. “You’re allowed to do that. Just like you’re allowed to bring some sort of wrath upon them for being pricks.”

Louis laughs loudly. Harry laughs with him when they hear it echo back to them.

“What? My mum loved me through a few whoopings, and I turned out fine.”

Louis hides his face with his hands as he laughs. Once he starts to catch his breath, he reaches out for the ends of Harry’s curls. He tugs lightly and smiles, and Harry grins right back at him. Louis feels like he’s sixteen and just got asked to prom every time he finds himself grinning wide through the butterflies flapping around his tummy.

“I really like you.” He says it because he can, and the way Harry’s dimple gets even deeper does nothing to stop those damn butterflies. It even makes their wings beat a little harder.

Harry leans in to kiss him when he says, “Me too.”

The sun is starting to rise, and Louis only realizes it when it leaves this lovely glow on the crown of Harry’s head.

Louis tries his best to commit this image, this boy, to memory. Then he breaks the reverie. “We should probably head back.”

Harry nods and puts his hand back in Louis’ as they walk the streets now paved in gold. Louis looks up at Harry and squints. He can’t really see his face in the morning sun, but he can tell he’s smiling.

He can feel his feet starting to drag, and his eyes feeling heavier with every step closer to home.

“Harry?”

He hums in response, still looking ahead.

“Do you think I should make a statement?”

Harry nods. “I think you should. But I think you should do it for you. And for your mum.”

“I think I’m going to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. But I’m doing it for the other kids too. The ones like me.”

Harry smiles wide and only lets go of Louis’ hand to wrap around his waist.

“I think that’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” he says. There’s not much else to say, except for what he says next. “You too. I’m gonna do it for you.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but when Louis looks over he can see a light pink dusting his cheeks. Louis pushes up on his tip-toes to kiss one.

When they walk back in the palace, there’s a few servants out, but Louis grips Harry’s hand before he can take it off his waist. It’s reckless and stupid and sure to cause a stir, but for now, that stir won’t leave the palace.

They make their way upstairs, their hips swaying together as they walk.

“Can we go back to bed?” Louis asks as they open his bedroom door.

Harry nods, “Was hoping you’d say that.”

They lie on top of Louis’ giant duvet. Louis thinks about climbing under it, but when Harry wraps around him he thinks this will suit him just fine.

They spend the remainder of that day in the library. Louis knows his mother won’t let him make any old statement. He’ll have to bring something to the table, some evidence that they can’t just kick him out, or a meaningful quote from an ancestor. He can’t just step in front of a podium and tell them all to go fuck themselves. He wouldn’t really want to do something like that in honor of the people important to him anyway.

They’re called to lunch and dinner, but Louis begs off on hunger strike both times. Harry shakes his head fondly and tells him he needs to stop neglecting his own nutrition when someone pisses him off. They compromise by eating whatever Harry brings back with him into the library.

His sisters join them at some point, trying to get Harry to read some of their favorites to them out loud. Harry indulges them in one chapter of _Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets_ and nearly agrees to a second before he sees how pointedly Louis is turning each page of his history book.

When Johannah enters the library late that night, Harry’s nodding off in the armchair and Louis is still turning page after page, becoming restless and frustrated. He shakes his feet out a moment, trying to relieve himself of the buzzing feeling climbing up his legs. He knew he should’ve gotten up for a wee sooner. It feels like his body is angry with him for sitting so long.

“Hi there,” she says from the door.

Louis’ head snaps up at the sudden noise. He hadn’t heard the door open.

Johannah makes her way inside and looks at the stack of books Louis and Harry have been scanning through all day. She raises an eyebrow. “This why you weren’t at dinner tonight?”

Louis doesn’t know what she’s thinking or how to answer her question. He didn’t want to talk to her about this until he knew what he wanted to say, until he had some foundation to stand on. He settles for nodding before returning to his book. This isn’t effective in sending his mother off. She only sits beside him and reads over his shoulder in that infuriating way mums do.

Louis huffs. “Did you need something, Mum?”

“Just haven’t seen you. Wondered what my son’s been up to the last few days.”

Louis taps his foot impatiently and looks up at her. “Just hanging out. Trying to figure out how to keep my spot in the monarchy, you know. Just a day in the life.”

The Queen laughs and puts a hand in Louis’ hair, ruffling it lightly.

“So someone let you have your phone.”

Louis shakes his head. “Just found it on TV—was an accident.”

“You know you don’t have to prove anything to them, right?” Johannah sighs, keeping a reassuring hand on her son’s shoulder. “Honestly, there’s no way they can actually force you to abdicate.”

“Well, according to my extensive research, they can challenge me to a duel. Fight to the death and all that. If Ed Walsh wins he’ll be the King.”

The Queen only laughs again with a roll of her eyes. “Like Ed Walsh has the balls to stick a sword through you. The man couldn’t even hold one properly.”

Louis cracks a small grin at that. “He’d get so mad at his own technique he’d say the whole thing was rigged.”

“And his face would be redder than a tomato.”

They laugh quietly together in the lamplight. Louis leans back in his chair and shuts the book in front of him in defeat.

“I suppose you’re right. There’s not much I can say to change their minds, is there.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” Johannah shrugs.

“What, with no proof? Stand up there and tell them I’m fit to be King without the authenticity of law or history to back me up?”

“Is that what you’re looking for? Authenticity?”

Louis shrugs. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Love, I’m all for you making a statement. But you don’t need any of that. You know where you’ll find your authenticity?”

Louis bites his lip and shakes his head. Johannah just smiles, and she places a finger right over Louis’ heart.

“It’s all there, love.”

Louis frowns and reaches for his mother’s wrist. He squeezes tight for a moment, shutting his eyes, and with a deep breath, he nods his head.

“When can we get out there?”

“Your call.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ll write up the announcement. We’ll have the entire town present for your statement.”

Louis smiles and feels a new tightness in his chest.

“Thank you, Mum.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

Louis sighs. It would seem everyone is. He’s not sure he’s earned it yet, but he thanks her anyway.

“You should send that one to bed.” Johannah says with a laugh, nodding in Harry’s direction. His head’s lolled to the side, and he’s sleeping with his mouth open. When Louis gets a glimpse of it, he feels his whole self become warm, and he’s smiling gleefully before he can even think to hide it.

“Was he in here with you all day?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, sweet and raspy. “He’s the best, really.”

Johannah glances straight through him and Louis coughs, trying to recover.

“Honestly, goes above and beyond. We should give him a raise.”

Johannah laughs. “I had this feeling you already gave him a raise of your own.”

Louis feels his eyes go wide and his face get hot rapidly as his mother stands and heads to the door.

“See you in the morning, Lou. Love you.”

“Yeah, love you too,” he chokes out, wishing he could will the embarrassed color out of his face. He hears her laugh one more time as she shuts the door.

The next day, Louis is a bundle of nerves. He feels tight and bound, like all his fears have him in a hold like a boa constrictor’s. Harry has taken note, bringing his hands to Louis’ shoulders when he can get away with it—lightly working at the knots. It’s ineffective, as it’s never long before someone comes round the corner and Harry takes his hands off. Louis wants to protest, but someone has to keep their head on straight today, and he can’t be angry at Harry for picking up his slack.

In the meantime, the small smiles and the light traces of fingers across his lower back find some way to at least ease the tension in Louis’ mind. He may have to face his people, but he won’t be alone as he seems.

 

Still, time passes, as time only ever does, and Louis finds himself in the back of a limo, with Harry at his side, thighs touching, on their way to have a conversation Louis never imagined he’d have. He hates that they’re in a limo—would rather just show up in some old piece of junk so he could feel less like a fraud. He hates feeling like a rich kid. And now he’s the worst kind of rich kid, showing up in a limo. He’s just a Prince standing in front of his people and asking them to love him. Fuck.

Harry’s been silent since they got inside, keeping one hand steady on his knee even as Louis bounces it nervously. Until his hand isn’t steady anymore, and it finds its way up and up and up into a space where Louis would _really_ like to be if it weren’t for the driver just a few feet away from them.

“Hey, mate,” Harry calls, “Do you mind putting up the divider a moment?”

“Of course not. You need anything, Your Highness?”

Harry’s hand is sitting right on his crotch, his grip isn’t even teasing, and it makes something in Louis’ brain go numb. He can’t even bring himself to answer the poor chauffer—can’t even tell him to just call him Louis.

Harry smirks slightly, “He’s alright. Just needs a minute before he gets up there. You know, nerves and all that.”

“Of course, sir.” he says, pressing the button.

Harry runs his hand down to Louis’ inner thigh and brings his mouth to Louis’ neck at the exact moment the divider clicks shut. Louis releases a breath he didn’t think he’d been holding and turns his body so his torso lines up with Harry’s. Harry is undeterred, so Louis brings his hands to his cheeks and lifts his head so he can catch Harry’s eyes. They’re brighter and more mischievous than he’s ever seen, and Louis nearly cackles at the sight.

He doesn’t get the chance, because Harry connects their lips instead, and Louis finds that even though his breath is cut off, it feels like the most satisfying breath of air he’s had all day. It’s deep and serene and Harry’s hands keep moving from his thighs to his hips, squeezing tight each time they land. And when Harry lightly touches his groin, Louis gasps in his mouth.

“I thought I needed to breathe, yeah?” Louis says.

Harry presses heated kisses to his jaw.

“We’re getting there.”

“What, you’re winding me up tighter first?” Louis chuckles. “There’s other people in this vehicle, Harold.”

Harry reaches for the button on Louis’ trousers, but Louis grips his wrist. It’s not that he’s not interested in this. It’s more that they don’t have as much time as is necessary for Harry’s chosen method. Harry’s unbothered by Louis’ gate-keeping, just moves his palms to Louis’ back, and brings him closer into Harry’s space.

It feels like Harry is everywhere, all over and all around, and Louis can’t think straight. He wants to lie and tell Harry he’s not into it, but he can feel his dick getting stiffer in his pants, and he licks hungrily into Harry’s mouth until it just doesn’t ring true anymore. Besides, this is the most relaxed he’s felt all day, so maybe Harry’s not wrong.

He moves his own hands from Harry’s chest down his abs teasingly. When he reaches for Harry’s zipper, Harry shivers, but copies Louis’ earlier movement, gripping Louis’ wrist.

“What?” Louis asks, sparing a thought for how embarrassingly out of breath he is.

Harry’s no better off, but he’s smirking, using his free hand to push his hair back on his head. “You’re trying to distract me.”

Louis matches Harry’s grin. “I’m not about to come in my pants in the back of a car, love.”

Harry laughs out loud before smacking a hand over his mouth. Louis giggles and leans forward to kiss his cheek. Ridiculous as he is, Harry kisses his lips instead, and Louis laughs into his mouth.

“Some exhibitionists, we are, huh?” Harry chuckles.

“Hey, just because _I_ have to look like an honorable adult doesn’t mean you do,” Louis grins, reaching for Harry’s button once more.

Harry makes an affronted noise, “I have to stand with your _mother_. I’m not about to stand next to the bloody Queen with a jizz stain on my trousers.”

“Wasn’t enough to stop you when it was gonna be my jizz on your trousers,” Louis smirks with sparkling eyes as he throws his legs overtop of Harry’s. They sit, glued to each other’s side in the back of the limo, legs tangled up and giggling, until the car seems to slow down.

There’s crowds of people on every street corner all moving in the same general direction, and Louis knows they’re close. Harry notices too, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Louis’ frown.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he whispers. “I promise. It’s all going to be fine.”

Louis swallows and lays his head on Harry’s shoulder.

It will be. He knows. He’s just not sure when the alright part starts. Now, or years from now? It could be long after he’s dead. Aren’t all the most famous Kings and Queens appreciated in the history books and in memories long separated from their present conflicts?

Where the air had been light, playful, and teasing before, it’s left feeling heavier, suffocating even. The only thing keeping his breathing steady, in and out, is Harry’s hand in his. And he knows that no matter how today goes, no matter what happens once he leaves that podium, everyone he loves will still be right there. His mum will be there to hug him the way only a mum can, his sisters will be there to remind him what a great brother he is, and Harry will be there to hold his hand and kiss his temple. They’ll love him through this. Even if his subjects won’t.

He’s relieved when Harry opens the car door -- less relieved when it means their separation -- but soothed anyway by Harry reaching for his hand to help him out of the car. His look is meaningful and sincere. Louis couldn’t be more grateful.

Of course, Harry releases his hand once he’s outside and puts on a pair of the most ridiculous sunglasses Louis has ever seen. He laughs at the sight. They’re big and round, and the rims are white and thick to boot. He looks like a bug wearing a wig.

“What?” Harry frowns. “What’s funny?”

“Where the hell did you get those?”

“I’ve had them a while,” Harry shrugs. “I like them.”

“Remember when I revoked my statement about you being the opposite of intimidating?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, because I’m obviously a badass who punches people in the face for you.”

Louis laughs because Harry still isn’t getting it, “I’m revoking that statement now. You’re back to fluffy and completely approachable. You can thank those ridiculous glasses.”

Harry pouts, sticking out his lower lip. They make their way into the only building in town with a terrace, and find Johannah briefly after.

“Harry, do take those glasses off. You look silly.”

Louis’ own loud laugh surprises him, and once he’s started he can’t stop. He feels like Niall when she finds something outrageously funny. Harry does remove his sunglasses, but not without crossing his arms and pouting some more.

“Sorry dear, but honestly. You were even indoors,” Johannah says with a shrug.

“My sister thinks I pull them off,” he says.

It takes everything in Louis not to kiss the pout right off his face. “Sorry, love, your sister lied.”

His mother shoots him a smug smile when Louis realizes the term of endearment slipped. Mentally, he shrugs. It’s not like she didn’t already know.

It’s only a few minutes later when an attendant tells them the crowd is nearly all ushered in. It feels like the butterflies that have taken residence in Louis’ tummy recently are turning against him—pulling and twisting his insides.

He takes a deep breath and feels multiple hands find his shoulders.

He reaches out for his mum first, hugging her tight. She squeezes and rocks them back and forth. It feels like he’s ten and fell off his bicycle, only calmed by his mother petting his hair and rocking them back and forth just like this. He takes a shaky breath in and squeezes her one more time before letting go on his exhale.

“Are you ready, Your Highness?” someone to his left says.

Louis nods and steps away, but he aches with the idea of not giving Harry a hug, too. And maybe it’s also an excuse to keep from going out there just a little longer, but when he looks over his shoulder and sees Harry beaming right at him, he decides that none of that matters anymore.

He turns around, takes Harry by the waist, and crashes into him for a hug.

“I’m gonna do this for us, yeah? And for the other kids who just need someone to say it first.”

Harry is taken aback, but he hugs back anyway.

“You can kiss me,” Louis adds in a whisper. “My mum knows. Honestly, I don’t even know why I tried to hide it from her.”

Harry stiffens a little, but doesn’t loosen his grip. He looks past Louis’ shoulder, and Louis wonders briefly what sort of look his mum might be giving him. When Harry looks down to meet Louis’ gaze, his eyes are the lightest green Louis’ ever seen, and he doesn’t delay another second before closing the distance between them.

The kiss is short and it’s sweet, but it feels like he’s been anchored. Like the sea in front of him is unsteady and dangerous, but right here and now, he’s safe and anchored at bay. And when he pulls away, Louis smiles sweetly and steps back.

He’s ready.

His mum wishes him luck, and Harry asks if he’s sure the dungeon isn’t an option for anyone who acts up. That’s how Louis finds himself laughing when he reaches the door to the terrace. When he steps outside, he finds there isn’t a podium after all. There’s just a very large group of people congregated below him, with a small, beautifully crafted railing that stops at Louis’ hips between them.

He makes himself take a deep breath as all the murmuring below him settles into an uncomfortable silence. Okay, maybe it’s an extremely uncomfortable silence. Especially when Louis means to start, but all he does is cough and choke on the calming deep breath he meant to take.

He steadies himself, pressing his fist to his chest and trying to stay calm. He’s afraid the eyes staring up at him will be filled with judgment and impatience. He’s just a boy to them. He’s not a King. Barely even fit to be Prince.

He thinks back to his Mother and her steady, disciplined hand in everything she does. And he tries his very best to channel it in his opening statement.

“Hi.”

_Shit, Tommo. Aren’t you just_ _smashing it._

He takes one last, giant deep breath and looks out in the crowd.

“Alright, look. I can stand up here, and I can read off of these note cards I’ve prepared for you all. I can be the Prince you think you want with the official crafted statements and the stiff posture. We all know I’m here to tell you like it is, but we’re also here because of who I am.

“I’m not some bullshit note cards.” Louis pauses and winces, “Sorry. Language. Sorry.

“The point is: you deserve the truth. If I’m to be your King, I think you deserve to know who I am. And all those weeks ago, when I came out to you, I thought I was giving you what you deserve. I agonized over the decision for months—maybe even years, on a smaller scale. See, I’ve known this about myself for a very long time, and in the last year, as my coronation has become imminent, I’ve worked very hard to let all of you know who I am. This was the only piece I’d neglected to share.

“I withheld it because I felt it was private. Initially, it was because I hadn’t even told my mum. Why would I tell you lot? Then, it was because I was sure there wasn’t any hope of a relationship anyway. Why discuss something that really didn’t feel like a possibility? Have you all worrying for nothing? But then it began to feel dirty and shameful. Keeping it hidden from you all made me feel like I was isolating myself over something that, in my opinion, shouldn’t feel shameful at all. That could even be celebrated, and liberating for other kids like me.”

Louis pauses and surveys the crowd. They’re far enough below him that he can’t make out any specific facial expressions, but thus far, he’s kept their attention. It urges him on.

“What it eventually came down to was that I wanted you all to _know_ me. That’s always been my goal as a leader. I never wanted to feel like a far off figure to you, I wanted to be among you. I wanted to be approachable, and I knew that in order to do that, I needed to be completely honest. Surely, I thought, they would recognize that this is no one’s business but mine. Surely, this would only bring us closer.

“I say all of this in the past tense because in light of the reaction to my honesty, I have sadly realized that I was mistaken. Of course I still want to be among you. I still want to be approachable and I want to be honest. However, I must admit, I’ve been extremely distraught by the fact that your reception has actually kept me behind closed doors longer than ever before.”

He feels a burning in his eyes, and it’s embarrassing, but he knows every person in that crowd has heard him sniff to keep from crying.

“If I’m completely honest, as I intend to be...I don’t know where to go from here. I understand there has been talk of my being abdicated, but allow me to ask you if you’re willing to face the consequences of that decision. We do abide by a longstanding system that technically calls for a duel. And to be frank, I deplore any one of you who dares believe that I deserve to be murdered for being myself.”

He pauses, and instead of cold silence, he feels a swell of applause. He looks below him and sees a crowd in the audience bringing their hands together. He notices a few of them even have signs, and he wants to read them, but he has to finish. And it seems there is even a generous group of people that want him to.

“All that said, I stand by each and every one of you. I appreciate you all and the hard work you put in for this beautiful country of ours. And I’d like to do my best to know you. I only hoped to open the gate between us by allowing you to know me. So, no, I don’t plan to take it back in order to keep your approval. I’m still gay. But I’m still Louis, too.

“And so we’ll go on after today, and hopefully find some normalcy in this new situation. But for the record, nothing’s really changed. And as of yesterday and today and every day afterwards, I look forward to being the King of this country, and I hope you’ll learn to have me as I am.”

He takes a step back to signify the end of his statement. He hears applause and whooping and hollering and sure, he sees a few people storming out too, but surprisingly he sees an overwhelming amount of support. He takes that second to read a few signs that mostly say _Love is Love_ and _Gay is Okay_ and other supportive slogans.

The one that catches him off guard simply says _YOUR BOYFRIEND IS CUTE_ in all caps.

Louis feels his cheeks burn red against his own will. He thought he and Harry were less transparent than this, but maybe it isn’t just that his friends know him well. Maybe he’s just horrible at hiding his feelings. Maybe he couldn’t be dishonest if he tried. It’s embarrassing, but it’s relieving to know that as far as these people are concerned, he doesn’t have to be.

When he’s escorted off the terrace and back inside, he thinks _to hell with hiding_. And he smiles at his mother’s proud tear streaked face, walks straight to his cute-as-fuck boyfriend and steals the kiss he wanted before he got out there. It’s deep and it’s long, and it only takes a second before Harry catches on. He grips Louis from behind and lifts him, spinning them in a quick circle as Louis kisses him.

Louis’ laughing gleefully when Harry sets him down, and kisses Louis’ forehead and says, “I am _so_ proud of you.”

And maybe a few months ago, even a few minutes ago, Louis would have shrugged him off. Maybe he would’ve found some reason to tell him he shouldn’t be. But this time, he smiles and he drapes his arms over Harry’s shoulders and connects his hands behind Harry’s neck.

“Thank you,” he says. “I’m proud of me too.”

And this time, he feels so much more than anchored and stilled. It’s like he can feel roots growing beneath them, attaching them to the earth and giving them the perfect place to grow. And for the first time in a long time, with Harry at his side, Louis can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Leave a comment below if you feel so inclined. I wouldn't complain. ;) <3  
> Or come say hello on [tumblr](http://haloeverlasting.tumblr.com) and while you're there... you should reblog my [fic post](http://haloeverlasting.tumblr.com/post/159355445349/king-and-lionheart-by-haloeverlasting-prince-louis)! :)  
> I'm nice I promise. :)


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